You and Me, Let's Take a Risk
by looks the same
Summary: AU. After college Callie and Arizona have wildly different plans. Callie, a badass with an attitude flings herself towards adventure. Arizona, damaged and numb flings herself towards escape. Both end up in Botswana as members of the United States Peace Corps.  *REPOST- See Author Note Inside*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is a repost. I wrote this well over a year ago and it was posted on livejournal. I have been asked multiple times by different readers to post it here. The latest request was so sweet that I decided to go ahead and it will give me a chance to edit the entire piece as a whole. Chapters will be updated/posted daily! **

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**Summary: **AU. After college Callie and Arizona have wildly different plans. Callie, a badass with an attitude flings herself towards adventure. Arizona, damaged and numb flings herself towards escape. Both end up in Botswana as members of the United States Peace Corps.

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-_ARIZONA POV_-

You've been losing time. At first you didn't notice it, let alone care. Now you notice it, maybe it worries you, and yet you still don't care. You find yourself out back, down through the property's heavy grove of trees. Your forehead is resting on the old withered wood of a doorframe. The doorframe of what your mother calls _Timothy's_ _Man Cave_. You raise your fingers to your mouth, curious that what you do in fact feel is a smile. _Timothy._ Remembering him is this crazy and mournful experience, yet there is no way you can remember him accurately without occasionally bursting into laughter or finding that smile as it spreads across your features. The combination of emotion feels out of place. True, accurate. Yet, out of place.

You step inside the abandoned shed and let yourself gaze at the structure. You run fingers along the walls and you try to remember what it looked like the last time you were here. Your family was always relocating for your father's job; however, in the later years he had established enough rank to settle for longer periods of time. Here, on this huge property in upper state Washington is where your parents officially reside.

You squint your eyes shut trying to piece together what this space would have looked like, prior. But your family moved here the summer before you left for college and at that point Timothy was already in basic training. You slam your fist against the wall and your body slides to the floor. There are only a few memories of Timothy here. You hate that this is the place you must return to, this place that barely had time to contain him, feel him, experience him.

You yearn for the others. The other places that truly provided backdrops to his life. Timothy always made some space for himself whenever your family relocated. You can see that tree house from when he was thirteen and that teepee that he constructed when he was fifteen. And the hammocks that hung high in the trees from when he was sixteen. And the boathouse from when he was even older.

The only time you really experienced Timothy here was last Christmas when he was on leave and you were on break from university. He hadn't been there with your parents to pick you up from the airport. When you finally dropped your bags in the house, you had gone racing down to where this shed was, knowing your big brother would be there. It was _so_ Timothy, even if he was twenty-three and you, twenty. You had pulled up short when you saw it. Hanging from the shed door was this ratty piece of paper that had literally followed Timothy his whole life. It was originally made with blue crayon but had eventually been marked over with pen and then even little strips of some sort of tape to spell out the letters. You never understood why he didn't just make a new sign, instead he used and re-used the one he created when he was no older then nine.

The sign read: _No Girls Allowed. _

Your laugher had bubbled out of you and you continued to walk towards it because _man_, you had hated that sign your entire life. And then you had heard his voice ring out from inside the structure.

"Turn it over."

And you knew what was coming and yet your breath had hitched in your chest as if you were seven years old all over again. You had lifted the sign up and underneath it was another sheet of paper. This one was equally old. Equally boy-made. Except this one was the sign you loved. This was the one you had spent years racing towards, hoping that it would be the one to hang on his fort, teepee, treehouse, whatever.

This one read: _If You Are Arizona- Come On In._

Last Christmas you had flung the door open almost upsetting it on its hinges. And there he was. He had been more fit then the last time you had seen him and his skin was tanned from the sun. His hair had been clipped short like all the military boys. His whole body was lounged out and those white teeth had flashed at you as he broke into his easy grin. You had flung your body over him, hugging him around the neck. His own laughter was the best sound you'd ever heard and he had tugged you down next to him so that your head rested on his shoulder.

And the two of you had talked and talked. A little about how army life was which he said was boring and you had laughed at that. Neither of you were prepared for the national crisis that would happen in September, still an unforgiving nine months away from that Christmas. He had asked all about school and you had launched into stories about your classmates, roommates, and the wonderful world that was Pre-Med. When you had gotten particularly lost in explaining some complicated science something he had nudged your shoulder to communicate that he had no idea what you were talking about. You had asked him about girls, he had asked you about girls. The conversation flowed so easily that it was almost dark before you had heard your mother calling you both to dinner.

Now, in this moment, your eyes scan the empty shed and you will yourself to bring him back. You squeeze your eyes shut, your fists balling up at your sides and you feel as if you could urge your body's blood to flow more quickly, more slowly, not at all. You feel as if you could do anything. Anything except the one thing that actually matters. You can not will Timothy alive.

Timothy is dead.

It stings inside your skull as the words echo and bounce off the empty place that is now your heart. And that scene of you launching yourself at Timothy plays over and over in your mind. You imagine pulling out the envelope that you now carry everywhere you go. You imagine handing it to him with this nonchalant look on your face as he unfolds it and scans it. You can perfectly see how his eyes would widen as he takes in your Med. School acceptance letter. And then you would hand him the others. Harvard, Columbia, Boston, and whatever ones had trailed in through the last few days that you still haven't opened. But you would both keep going back to that first one. That one from John-Hopkins, because he knows that this is the one. He would have said he was so proud of you and he would have hid his face when his eyes started to fill. And it would have meant more to you then your parent's reactions or your friends or your professors. It would have meant everything.

You pull it out now, folded into a tiny square deep inside your black slacks. You look at it once more and you shrug at the lack of reaction you have. You watch your hands grip the edges and you feel the emotion well up inside of you.

The next thing you realize is it's early morning and the sun is streaming in through the cracked window. Your body is stiff from where it has been crumpled on the hard floor. You push your bangs off your forehead and try to swallow. Your throat is raw, no doubt from the crying and sobbing and moaning of last night. You stand up on wobbly legs, reach down and pull off your heels, hooking the straps through your fingers. A white shred of paper catches your eye. You see it then. A whole pile of tiny strips. Your acceptance letter is now kindling. You watch as the light breeze sweeps it up and tosses it slightly before the shreds land again.

You don't remember ripping the letter but it seems so fitting that you can't bear to collect the pieces. An offering of sorts.

_Here world, take my future. You've taken everything else. _

You head towards the door and you know you should look back.

You know you should glance at that spot you saw Timothy in for the very last time. You know you should dig around the random boxes in the corner for his boyhood sign telling you to come on in. You know you should at least glance back at your dreams, now destroyed on that dirty floor.

But you don't. You can't. You won't.

And then another thought occurs to you as you start to hike back up towards the house where you hope no more mourning guests are. You remember another letter that you received three weeks ago. It was the results of an assignment you completed last year. You had to take a few classes that were not related to your field of study and one of them had been this career course that talked about life after college and your potential options. You had rolled your eyes through most of the class since you didn't want options. You were going to graduate Pre-Med and then you would go on to Med. School and then an internship at some competitive hospital and then residency and then _boom_, your life would begin.

But this professor had insisted that everyone come up with three options for after graduation. You had tried to get away with counting John-Hopkins, Harvard, and Columbia as your three separate options but the professor had only frowned at you and told you to try again.

In the end you had settled on Med. School and two other options you would never actually consider. You had written a beautifully snarky essay on how getting married and being a housewife would fulfill your dreams and hopes. A serious essay on your career as a surgeon attached to dozens of applications. And the third, the third had been a joke. It was an honorable choice, you knew that, but it in no way fitted into your plans. You had filled out the application and even gone on an interview in order to complete the assignment. Honestly, you hadn't even thought about it again until three weeks ago when you received your acceptance letter.

You can feel the burn in your legs as you reach the top of the hill and start towards the house. The sensation in your calves is welcomed.

Yes, you will follow through. Your decision is made in an instant. Bare feet snapping twigs, _snap, snap, snap_. Yes, yes this is what you will do. You will dig up that letter that is somewhere in your luggage when you get inside the house. You will make that phone call and go through the remaining steps. The letter said if you got all the medical and physical exams that you could ship out as soon as two months from now.

Your assignment had read: _United States Peace Corps. - Botswana_.


	2. Chapter 2

_-CALLIE POV-_

You can feel it about to start. The air tenses up as if it's preparing itself for the oncoming slaughter. For one instant everything is wonderfully silent. And in that quick moment you lean forward, your body pulling tight against the seat belt. You run one hand along his bare arm and the other comes to grip his chin teasingly from behind. He turns his head from the front seat to where you are in the back. He grins at your advances. You tell him to tell his buddy, the driver, to slow down. The rains are coming.

He barely gets it out of his mouth before the sky practically cracks open and downpours. You lift your face upward as the warm rain stains your face and runs in rivets down your neck, getting caught up somewhere lower. The wind picks up your long mane and tosses it in every direction. It smacks your friend, the one sitting next to you, and your laughter comes tumbling out when he looks more turned on then pissed off.

Today your life changes.

You are an official graduate of Miami University with a degree in Biology. Your success is surprising. To your friends you are Callie: beautiful, free, a constant tease, oh and insanely wealthy. Full stop. There isn't anything more. They don't know to look for anything more. But this isn't some obscure image that they've created out of nothing. No, you relish this image. You pan towards it.

But the truth is you loved college. Every single minute. Your whole body would buzz in excitement whenever you entered a class for the first time, waiting anxiously for the instructor to begin. The whole course is this beautiful tease of what was to come and when you left the class for the last time, knowing you aced that final, sometimes the feeling was almost orgasmic. You are a lover of knowledge. You enjoy challenging yourself, rising to the occasion, coming out on top.

The many people you frequently find yourself jetting off with to NYC or Mexico or even the Caribbean are not aware, nor interested, in your love of science. You prefer it as such.

Somewhere along the way you became a party legend. You are beautiful and in circles such as yours that in of itself makes you somebody. In addition, you make a habit of reminding everyone that you never give a damn about things like consequences and you keep on teasing and yes, you spend a lot of money to make sure there is always a constant stream of champagne wherever you go.

But now you're bored. And it's all about to change. You've seen this life, what your friends have to offer here, and you are over it. You want new people. You want new risks. You want a whole new onset of adventure. Oh, and helping people is good too. Besides you have to do something. You know your father well enough to know he won't keep dishing out the_ free life_ if you aren't doing something, anything.

So you've decided on a change of scenery. And it starts today, with graduation. Well, it starts two months from now to be exact. But for right now, in this instant, you are content to lean into the rain. To feel the power of the wind as it whips through your hair.

Your family's property comes into view and you again lean forward to yell at the driver to cut the engine. He pulls over to the side, still a ways off from the driveway. It's late and you promised your parents you would sleep here tonight so that the family can celebrate your graduation with a morning brunch. Morning is only a few hours off.

Sliding out of your seat, you tug your skirt down slightly so not to give an entirely free show to the three male occupants of the car.

"Goodnight gorgeous. Congratulations again," one says.

You smile at the boy who is lounged out in the passenger seat. Bobby. You have no idea when you met him, maybe a few months ago. The poor guy is practically a walking hard-on when he's around you. And you can't help it, teasing him is kinda required.

Tonight, however, you don't really feel like leading him on, instead you would rather he just follow you. Make this straight forward. So you slide effortlessly into his lap and collapse your arms around his neck and bring your face right in front of his. You lean forward and brush your lips against his own. It's quick and when you pull back you laugh at his reaction. He's flat out shocked but then his face breaks into a huge fucking cocky grin. He's ridiculous, helpless and you decide to just go for it. You grind your body into his, laughing some more when his eyebrows shoot up as your tongue traces your bottom lip.

"Well you coming or what?" You say.

He practically scrambles to get his seatbelt undone as his buddies hoot and holler at him. Your eyes land on Ben, your long time friend who was sitting next to you in the backseat. He just gives you a pointed stare before shrugging his shoulders at you. You shake your head at his silent message before tugging Bobby's hand into yours and leading the way up the walk. Ben's right. Bobby's an asshole. But hey, Bobby isn't a relationship guy and that is exactly what you need.

You, Callie, are not the kind of girl who says I love you's or gets broken up with or whatever. You decided a long time ago that it wasn't your style. Besides everything else in your life is about to change. You ship out in exactly two months. Some things have to stay the same and Bobby? The idea of Bobby is something you've been doing for a long time now.

You tug him through the back entry of the side apartment that you reside in when you come home from university. It sits off of your parent's main house. You let him push you back against the dresser, you head falling forward, watching him. Your whole body starts to heat up. A white edge grabs your attention from on top of the piece of furniture you are currently leaning against. Your eyes glance down and another smile washes over you.

Your assignment reads: _United States Peace Corps. - Botswana_.

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**A/N: Thanks for all the follows! Glad people are reading it!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Heads up! POVs are about to switch throughout chapters. I know it's a difficult way to follow a storyline but once you get into it, I think you'll see and enjoy it. Let me know! Thanks!**

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_-CALLIE POV-_

You feel the tires of the airplane make contact with the runway and you immediately jolt out of sleep. You push a hand up to slide your face mask onto your forehead as you peer over the passenger next to you and look out the window.

Detroit. Yippee.

You roll your eyes at the fact that this is where your adventure begins. But it is only for a few days and then your group will be shipped out to Botswana for the three-month training program. From there you will receive your individual assignments and specific locations for the following two years.

Whatever happened to the concept of just jumping right in? Figure it out as you go, sink or swim? You've decided spontaneity is a lost art. The plane rolls across the runway as you pack your things into your backpack. The passenger next to you cements his eyes on your stomach when you reach up to stretch your upper body. After you drop your arms and your abdomen is no longer on display he continues to stare as if hoping you'll need a repeat stretch. When he realizes this probably won't be happening, his eyes travel up to yours.

Which are staring back at him.

Your eyebrows raise as he immediately goes red and starts to undo his seatbelt, grabbing his carry-on. All before the sign goes off telling him that he can move.

You try not to laugh.

Exiting takes freakin forever and you are about to ask someone what the hold up is when you finally put it together. You haven't ridden Coach—ah ever. Okay, a few times when you and whatever group you were with were trying to catch random flights to random destinations but still the times were few.

This time you laugh at yourself because when something like this comes up it only points to your family's wealth and you hate that in some inevitable way entitlement has rubbed off on you. Finally it's time to move and you grab your backpack and jacket and start to follow the line towards the door. You have to admit, being dumped in the middle of freaking Africa possibly without even the luxury of a toilet, thrills you to no end. You are totally ready for this challenge.

Besides the best stories always end up with someone having to pee behind a really tiny bush.

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_-ARIZONA POV-_

You position your body into a seat by a window, your giant backpack in the seat next to you. Your knees automatically slide up so that the soles of your sneakers rest on the edge of the seat. Once your chin is resting on your jean clad knees, you decide to start to giving yourself a pep talk. Silently.

You, Arizona, are still grieving. Yes, you wake-up most nights in a sweaty panic because in your dreams your hands can't stop the blood pouring out of Timothy's chest and you've watched him die dozens of times. Yes, you are still certain that you are not going to be a surgeon because accomplishing anything great while your brother lies in the ground seems kinda pointless. And yes, doing this, the Peace Corps., might be the best way to escape your mother's sad eyes and your father's stern face.

But Botswana?

This is quite possibly the most impulsive and stupidest thing you've ever done.

You've heard horror stories about people who have dreamed about traveling to Africa since forever. They arrive, freak out due to culture shock, and crap out early. You've spent a collective three hours thinking this through and bam, here you are.

You watch through the window as the shuttle fills. In less then thirty minutes you will be meeting the group you will be spending, at minimum, the next three months with. The itinerary states that you'll finish registration, participate in introductions and have some overview of rules and regulations. Nobody else on this shuttle looks like they are about to ship out to bum-fuck nowhere and you are thankfully glad. Because that gives you at least a little bit of time to pull yourself together.

The whole walking corpse thing you've perfected in the last few months isn't really going to get you far once this whole thing starts. Besides this is about forgetting that your brother, your best friend, just up and died on you. This is about burying the pain so deep that you'll be old and dead too before it gets a chance to resurface. So you blink at your reflection through the glass window in attempts to clear your empty eyes. You paste a small curious grin on your face, breathe, relax your shoulders, and hope this passes for a girl who is overwhelmed by the wonders that could be Africa.

You are still trying to convince your reflection that you are not damaged or broken or any of the other things you most certainly are when you hear the doors of the shuttle start to close. Then another sound pierces your consciousness. A loud and high whistle penetrates the bus and your body launches forward and slams against the seat in front of you as the shuttle comes to an abrupt stop. You watch the doors open again as this tall girl crosses from the airport curb to its doors.

Where the fuck does she think she is? New York City? Seriously? Whistling?

You watch her walk towards the shuttle and you can't stop your eyes from rolling at how she walks, not runs, to catch up to the transportation. You rub your shoulder from where it crashed into the seat as you watch her approach the doors. She peaks her head in and her voice floats through.

"Hi. Can you help me with my bag please?"

Some dude jumps up and hauls her bag, similar to yours, which she was just carrying all by herself, inside. She smiles again and you don't even let yourself get lost in that intoxicating smile or those long long legs which are clad in a pair of shorts. Forget the perfect hair that is falling in effortless curls down her back.

Some other guy offers her his seat at the same time as the first guy offers up his for her backpack. You actually groan in frustration when the driver asks if she's all set before again closing the doors and taking off through the airport.

This stranger annoys you. And you, Arizona, are usually pretty damn perky. You like almost everyone and to be honest most everyone likes you. You make a habit of not drawing conclusions or dishing out judgments before you really know someone. You shrug it off as another personality change that has occurred since Tim.

Yet, you watch her. You watch her chat up the other passengers who are in the front and at one point you groan out loud again when the luggage-helper guy mentions that he is surprised she just got off a flight as she looks really rested and good. It is such a bad pick-up line and you can read her agreement all over her face, yet she plays right into his hand. When she pulls out a packet from her bag and starts to scan an oddly familiar looking folder, you catch on.

She too is heading for the exact same place you are. _Dumb_. Whatever. You shrug it off. Besides in your opinion this chick won't even last the two days in Detroit let alone Africa. And if she does, Africa is huge, right?

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_-CALLIE POV-_

You feel bad making the other passengers wait while you get settled. But you were nervous that if you didn't get on this one that you might be late and you really rather not be late.

You start an easy flow of conversation with the people around you and you think to yourself that it's a good skill to have. Surely integrating into a group of volunteers and eventually a whole community will be easier for you than for others. You think of it as practice.

You are scanning through the itinerary of the evening that includes check-in, registration, paperwork, a get to know people, and some instruction. You are about to locate when the dinner break happens but you pick your head up at the sound of a groan coming from the back of the bus. Besides for the guy who is hovering over you and still chatting away, the bus is semi-quiet, as buses full of strangers tend to be.

Your eyes locate the source, or what you think is the source, and land on a girl who is curled into a seat with her own bag next to her. It looks like the kind of bag you would take to another country and it is similar to yours. You think maybe she too is with the Peace Corps. You shoot her a smile but she doesn't make eye contact and immediately goes back to staring out her window.

You can't help the tiny laughter that escapes your lips at her lack of enthusiasm. She blows out a breath that launches a blonde curly strand of hair off her forehead. Somehow you find the action endearing. The guy next to you is now touching your shoulder. You turn back to him, about to tell him to please remove his paws, but before you can the driver has approached your stop and is calling it out so that those getting off can move to the front of the bus.

You stand and start to reach for your bag but before you can your new handsy friend already has it maneuvered and out the door for you as the bus pulls up to the hotel you are getting off at.

"Ah. Thanks," you say, climbing down, letting him help you along the way before positioning your bag onto your back.

"Let me help you too doll," he says, turning away from you. The annoyed blonde girl is getting off as well.

She shrugs him off and kinda leaps down the steps before turning back.

"Got to learn at some point how to carry my own stuff. Africa isn't really known for bellhops," she says.

You raise your eyebrows as she turns towards the front doors of the hotel and takes off ahead of you. You kinda can't help but think that last comment was meant for you.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

"Hi. Is this seat taken?" You snap your head in the direction of the voice coming from behind your left shoulder. A tall willowy girl with a kind face is pointing at the folding chair next to yours.

"Ah. No. Sit down." You hear your voice and it surprises you how typical Arizona it sounds. The two of you sit in silence for an awkward moment. Maybe making a friend would be smart, you decide. So you start.

"I'm Arizona."

The girl next to you extends her hand. "Teddy."

The two of you fall into an easy conversation about hometowns and family and why you signed on for the Peace Corps.

"I just felt like I wanted to do something bigger, you know? Something that meant something. So I guess that's why I'm here. You?" Teddy pulls her long hair into a high ponytail as she talks. You like her. She is the type of girl you would have been friends with at home. Yet, telling her your sob story upfront just doesn't feel conversational.

"Um. Yeah. Same." You shrug your shoulders and ignore the look she gives you that says you aren't very convincing. You try to pick up your game. "Actually I applied kind of as a joke. Not really a joke _joke_ but as a requirement for a class. And then the idea just really grew on me." You shoot her a smile and she laughs kindly and you hope she doesn't ask for details.

You are about to ask her where she went to school when a loud voice from across the room interrupts you.

"Addison Montgomery from Connecticut?!"

You turn your head and find the girl from the bus calling out to someone else from across the room. A tall redhead spins around at the name. You and Teddy both watch as her face goes from confused to focused. But then she locates the source.

"Callie Torres. Miami!"

The two girls squeal at each other before wrapping their arms around each other. The rest of the room goes back to chatting but you can't help but watch the two girls. They are laughing in shock and surprise. Everyone else in this room has been wearing a matching expression during the last hour. Anxiousness. And it's expected. Shipping off to Africa for over two years should scare the shit out of everyone. But these two girls are confident all over.

Teddy leans over to you, whispering in your ear. "That one is my roommate."

You glance back at Teddy and then back to the other two girls. "Which one?"

"The Callie one. She was dropping her bag in the room as I was heading down here so we really only talked for like three seconds."

This Callie girl, the girl from the bus, is still chatting up her friend, hands flying animatedly. "The last time I saw you, you were jumping ship in order to swim to that other boat with the group of Australian tourists!"

Addison laughs at that. "Hey it was the Caribbean! And they were hot. And if I remember correctly you were trying to convince our boat to crash that giant wedding on Barbados."

You roll your eyes towards Teddy. "Well good luck with that," you say.

She laughs back at you and before you know it the group is being called to attention and some important looking people begin talking.

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

You can't believe Addison is here. Actually it doesn't surprise you one bit. This is so something she would do but the fact that you are both in this room together is kinda crazy. Out of all the girls you've met in the last few years through friends of friends or random people who turn up in random exotic places, Addison is by far your favorite.

The two of you are similar. And she's snarky and sort of a riot. Plus she doesn't turn into a stupid girl every time a boy appears which is sort of a relief. She was close to finishing her degree the last time you saw her and you make a mental note to ask if she graduated.

The two hours pass quickly as it mostly is made up of paperwork and some icebreakers. And finally the group is dismissed. Vouchers are handed out for dinner along with a list of the restaurants inside the hotel.

"I wanted to find my roommate," Addison says, scanning her paperwork. "I can't remember what her name was, something weird, but just her bag was there when I got in."

You are busy looking over the list of dinner choices.

"We don't have to be anywhere tonight do we? Cal?"

You tear your eyes from the list. "No. We're done. Although tomorrow is an early start."

Addison looks up at you with a grin already plastered on her face. "They didn't say anything about going elsewhere for dinner if we bought our own."

You shoot her a smirk as you pull out your phone and start plugging away, looking for somewhere a little more upbeat for dinner. And then an idea hits you.

"Oh my god! My father's cousin owns a nightclub somewhere in the city. He kept saying I should look him up when I got here but I kept brushing him off as I didn't think we'd have time."

Addison smirks again as you make a call and five minutes later you snap your phone shut. "Reservations for five in one hour. Said it should only take 20 minutes via cab. Drinks and dinner on him."

"For five? There are only two of us," Addison states.

"Well I figured we should at least invite our roommates. Mine seemed nice. Teddy was her name." You scan the room for the girl you met earlier but don't see her.

"Okay, that's four."

You just laugh at her and start to lead the way towards the elevators. "You never know who else we might just pick up."

As if on cue this attractive guy walks up to where the two of you are waiting for the elevators.

"Did I just hear drinks and dinner in the city? Cause the Detroit Café option isn't really gonna do it for me."

You grin up at him and offer your hand. "Callie Torres. And you heard correctly."

"Mark Sloan."

"Addison Montgomery."

The elevator dings its arrival and Addison steps inside. You are right behind her when you turn around and tell Mark to meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes. You shoot him your signature smirk before the elevator closes and the two of you head towards your rooms.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

You're with Teddy in your room, grabbing a jacket before you head to the lobby for dinner. You finally pull your hoodie out of your bag and motion that you're ready to leave. Teddy is in the middle of telling you some funny story about a friend of hers from back home when your door opens.

You glance over your shoulder and spot the redhead from earlier. She shoots you a smile before popping her head back out into the hallway.

"Cal, I found your roommate," she shouts.

Callie comes rounding the corner and both she and Addison, you think it was, enter the room.

"Oh hey, Teddy!" Callie waves at Teddy who is still sitting on your bed. Then her eyes land on you and you can't help but raise your eyebrows at her and she presses her lips together to suppress a laugh.

"I'm Arizona." You introduce yourself to the redhead. "You must be my roommate?"

The redhead nods her head, offering her name up.

"This is Teddy," you say, introducing the two girls.

Teddy and Addison greet each other.

Addison then tilts her head towards Callie. "This is my friend Callie."

"Oh we've met." Callie smirks at you and offers her hand.

"Not officially," you say. But you do reach forward and shake the tanned hand being offered.

And then all of you kind of stare at each other awkwardly for a moment before Teddy speaks up.

"So you two knew each other from before? That's kinda crazy," she says.

The tension disappears as Addison and Callie laugh and the four of you make light conversation and you start to think maybe you pegged these girls wrong.

"So listen," Callie starts. "Addie and I were going to grab a cab and find somewhere more interesting for dinner. You girls want to join? Actually, I know someone who owns a nightclub downtown and he said he'd love to treat whoever came along."

Nope. Definitely didn't peg her wrong.

You are about to turn her down because... because. You don't really know why. Maybe it's because she knows someone who happens to own a restaurant downtown. Maybe it's because she mentioned it was a free meal, like you can't pay for your own food. Maybe because the food vouchers they gave you apparently aren't good enough for her. Maybe. And this one is probably really it, you are so angry at the world right now that being angry with her feels pretty damn good.

"Sure. That sounds fun." Teddy answers out loud and you kick yourself for getting distracted by your internal dialogue.

"Great! You in Arizona?" Addison asks, glancing at you, waiting for a vocal response.

You glance at Teddy who gives you a smile that practically screams- we might as well makes friends with somebody. You sigh and nod your head.

"Perfect." Callie starts to head back towards the door and Teddy gets up to follow her. "Teddy and I will come collect you both in twenty minutes," Callie finishes.

The door shuts behind them and you watch as Addison starts to pull a slinky gold dress out of her duffel. You watch as two gold heels appear.

You can't help it. You burst out laughing. Who the fuck packs gold heels for Africa?

She glances up at you and smiles back, clearly getting it. "Hey! I have boots and jeans too. This is a, just in case dress."

You roll your eyes. It's just a whole different world then you're use to.

And then she does something equally as shocking. "I know I'm taller than you but I have another dress that you'd look smashing in?"

You glance at your own bag, knowing you won't find anything even remotely dressy in there. _Oh, hell._

You giggle, throw caution to the wind, and nod your head yes.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to those that have reviewed, I appreciate it! Oh, and take notice when a POV changes and when just a scene changes but POV stays the same. :)**

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

You stretch your limbs underneath the white sheet that is flung over your body. Your eyes remain shut as you feel your body start to wake.

This is your morning routine.

You tense your leg muscles twice before relaxing them as you work through your body, tensing and releasing each muscle group until you can practically feel the stress float away. Legs, calves, thighs, torso, chest, arms, shoulders, and neck. When you get to your face, you squish every feature before holding it for a moment. You take a breath in and release the tension. It was some dumb exercise you learned in a psychology class your first semester but it freakin works. You would never admit to anyone that you learned something useful from a field that is grounded in behavior and not science. No freakin way. But truth is truth.

"What's going on over there?"

Your blue eyes flash open and take in Addison's tall frame, wrapped in a towel, peering down at you from across the room. You laugh.

"Nothing," you say, flinging back the sheet and swinging your legs to the side of the bed.

You scan the room for the time and take in that you have one hour before everyone meets downstairs in the big room.

"The line for the showers is short, so you might want to scamper down there," your roommate says.

Addison is hunched over her bag, starting to pull out casual clothes for the day.

"Good idea."

You make your way to the window and pull back the blinds. You can't see much. An empty field of some sort is off to the right and another building to the left. Your group arrived here in Kanye, a town located in Southern Botswana, late last night and nothing could be seen. Maybe today you will get a tour.

You and Addison are still sharing a room except this room shares a bathroom with the other dormitories on the floor. The facility is where the three-month training will take place. Tomorrow, however, all of you will be dished out to local hosting families. These families will take a volunteer in and help them integrate into the community. These host families are all located within an hour commute of the training space. After the three-month training, the group of you will get your permanent assignments and then be sent to those towns with new host families. That's where you'll be for two years.

You turn back around to face the room and Addison has her back to you as she tugs on a sports bra and tank-top. You can't help your eyes from scanning her bare back. The girl has a nice back. You shake your head because this girl is the straightest thing you've ever met as her behavior indicated the night you all went out in Detroit. Ten minutes at the restaurant and she had that Mark guy practically wrapped around her finger.

You decide to stop potentially perving on your roommate's bare back, glad she doesn't feel uncomfortable around you and your sexuality. It seems that you, Arizona, might have completely misjudged Addison upon initial inspection. You expected her to be shallow and possibly small-minded. Turns out not to be true. Judgements on her friend Callie, however, are still pending.

"Hey, have you seen my phone?" Addison's voice interrupts your thoughts and triggers a memory at the same time.

"Um, yeah. I think so." You pad over to your bed and run your hand under the sheets until it comes in contact with her phone.

"Here." You toss it to her.

She looks back at you in puzzlement and then you watch as the thoughts actually float in front of her face, she breathes them in and you feel as if you can see realization hit and then guilt finally takes over.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

You shrug, laughing. "Not completely your fault. Although next time I would prefer a gentle shake or even a wake-up shout."

She grimaces. "I'm a little cranky when I'm tired and I do stupid things like nail my roommate in the face with my phone."

"I think it was my chest that you nailed." You grin at her so she knows you aren't mad.

You head towards your own bag and pull out your towel, a change of clothes, your vanity bag, and a pair of flip flops to wear in the shower. You are hoping she will leave the conversation where it is but of course she doesn't.

"So what were you dreaming about? It sounded bad," Addison asks.

You look over your shoulder to where she is sitting on her own bed, rubbing sunscreen on her legs and arms.

"It's nothing."

You wince because you are the worst liar ever.

"I could request a single room for tonight if you want," you continue.

Timothy is your problem and your nightmares shouldn't have to bother someone else.

"Don't be stupid Arizona."

"Well later today when we've been in language class for six hours straight and the exhaustion hits, and you change your mind, let me know," you say, grabbing your stuff and heading towards the door that leads to the hallway, which leads to the showers.

"Will do."

She shouts it at your parting back.

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

You glance at your watch. Eight hours. It has been eight hours.

Two hours of lectures about safety, which you get is important, but basically the premise was don't go out alone at night without someone knowing where you are. This is a concept you hope everyone had learned before they turned seven.

Then it was one hour of basic overview of the country with special emphasize on potential areas everyone could be stationed. Another hour of dumb icebreakers, which you don't see the point of. Most of you will be stationed in areas with one, or if you're lucky, two other American volunteers. What was the point of getting to know the whole group when you wouldn't be seeing much of them after training?

At one point a speaker talked about his own experience here in Botswana and how he had been sent to a small village where most of the population had never met an American. He had been sent alone. It was a wonderful, fulfilling experience, _blah blah blah_. But the idea of being sent somewhere with only basic knowledge of the language and without another rooky next to you, well it terrifies the shit out of you.

You are all for adventure. More adventure, you say. But that? That sounds damn right lonely although you'd never admit that isolation freaks you out. You keep praying that you'll be stationed in one of the towns that has need for several volunteers.

You are currently in with a smaller group that is cycling through a skills rotation. Your group has been in language for almost four hours. Addison is in another group with Teddy, but Mark and Arizona are sitting next to you suffering through Setswana- the language of Botswana. For the most part English will be spoken, but you agree that it makes integration easier and more effective if you can speak a little of the native language. The Peace Corps. is all about respecting other cultures and not walking in with a superior American attitude. You respect it, it wasn't necessarily how you were raised, but it has long been a personal value of yours.

The instructor calls on you to role-play a basic conversation. After you make your way to the front of the classroom, he calls on Arizona to dialogue across from you.

You watch her leave her seat and head towards you. This Arizona chick peeks your interest immensely. You, Callie, are an excellent people reader. This girl is damn hard to figure out. One moment she acts like she can't stand you. The next she is glammed up in one of Addison's dresses, downing booze, and giggling madly. But most of the time, most of the time she looks as if she is moments away from breaking down and giving into the haunted look that plagues her eyes constantly.

* * *

_-Two Nights Ago-_

"_Hey. I'm sending Teddy back to your room for a wardrobe fitting." _

_You tell this to Addison over the hotel phone, shoot a thumbs-up at Teddy. Teddy gives you a quick grateful look before heading out the door. Addison reminds you of the time and you tell her you'll be by the room in a few and hang up the phone._

_You hop in the shower to wash the airplane off your skin before shimming into a tight-ish black dress. You pad barefoot to the mirror to work a brush through your long dark curls grateful that you have the kind of hair that needs very little attention. You smirk at your reflection as you imagine what Addison is going to do without her precious blow dryer if she gets stationed in some remote village._

_You brought with you a few pieces of jewelry but decide to just go casual with some gold studs. As you slip into your black heels you run your hands down the front of your dress, shifting it slightly so it hugs your best parts. It's one of your favorites. It cuts high against your collarbone but then dips dangerously low in the back. You glance over you shoulder at how the back strap of your black lace bra is exposed. But there was no way in hell you were packing stick-on bra cups for Africa so you toss your hair back, hoping your curls will cover most of it._

_Ten minutes later you make your way to Addison and Arizona's room, letting yourself in._

"_We're hurrying. We're hurrying!" _

_Addison's voice floats towards you from the bathroom. You scan the situation. Teddy is wearing a semi-casual but still stunning floral print dress that hugs her like she owns it. She is sitting on the bed packing a few of her purse things into the smaller clutch next to her. Arizona has her back to you as she stands at the window looking out at the city lights. You can't see much of her but her hair falls in soft curls down her back, making a sharp contrast with the deep blue satin of her dress._

"_So when you said we you really meant you since apparently Teddy and Arizona are ready to go," you say._

_You can't help but tease Addison. But then she steps out from the bathroom in a typical gold dress that is so Addison. Her long red tresses are pulled into a sharp ponytail that only she can pull off._

"_You ready?" Teddy calls as she gets off the bed and heads towards the two of you, a hint of mockery in her voice._

"_Yeah. Yeah. Yeah." Addison reaches for her purse on the dresser. "Just remember, without me you'd be going out naked right about now."_

_Teddy laughs, glancing over her shoulder. "AZ, you ready?"_

_You follow Teddy's eyes to where Arizona is still turned away and you swear you see her flinch slightly. She turns and your eyes widen in shock for a second and then swing over to Addison who is trying not to fall into a full out smirk._

_Arizona, well, Addison's dress that Arizona is wearing, has quite the plunging neckline. It's tasteful but still ballsy as the material doesn't come back together tell mid torso. You've known Arizona all of five minutes but this is definitely so not her normal style dress. Yet, she has the body for it and is obviously rocking it as she walks towards the group._

"_You doing okay there?" Addison asks Arizona whose face has gone from whatever she was lost in at the window to slight embarrassment._

"_It's not too much?" she asks, waving a hand down across her body._

"_Arizona it's hot." _

_Addison and Teddy both reassure her. She still looks nervous._

"_Hey I got the same thing going on in the back." You grasp for anything that will be helpful as you turn away from her and brush your hair over your shoulder, exposing your bare back. "Except you don't have the trashy bra action going on," you finish._

_She laughs at that and you watch the embarrassment float off her face. The four of you head towards the door. That's when you hear her voice from behind you, an almost whisper in your ear._

"_It isn't trashy at all."_

_You glance over at Arizona to see if she really did just say something nice but Addison interrupts you._

"_That Mark dude probably bailed on us by now," she says._

_You gasp, having completely forgotten about the guy from the elevator._

_Three minutes later though you learn that Mark is still waiting and that Mark isn't the type of guy to stand up multiple women._

_After introductions the five of you settle into a cab with Teddy, Addison, and yourself sitting in the middle seat and Arizona and Mark in the back. Upon meeting up with Mark you felt the familiar rush you get whenever you watch someone stare at you for that long. Oh, he will be so easy to tease._

_However, Mark is a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of hot women and he gets distracted right off the bat. Currently he is distracted by Arizona's plunging neckline._

_As you give the driver the address you can hear Addison and Teddy strike up a conversation about today's events and then you hear Mark's voice over their girly ones._

"_So Blue Eyes, what's your story?"_

_You turn your head towards Teddy and Addison who have shut their conversation off. Teddy makes a gagging motion with her finger and Addison shuts her eyes briefly and shakes her head._

_There is a long pause from the back in which you can literally hear Arizona shoot her eyebrows up at him. _

_And then he continues. "I bet you already have all the boys from your hometown falling over you so now what, Africa?"_

_You, Teddy, and Addison all try to casually turn your faces towards the back. You watch as Arizona leans closer to him which surprises you. She stares back at him with this look that you are sure is making him hard. She touches him lightly on the knee._

_And then she speaks._

"_Please tell me that doesn't usually work. Because if it does then I have to say I'm slightly embarrassed for the rest of the female population."_

_There is a pause. And then the three of you in the middle crack up, three necks thrown back as the fierce laughter tumbles out._

_A full minute later Addison points out in between bursts of laughter the shocked look still on Mark's face which only causes you all to double up again and this time Arizona joins in. Mark finally gets himself under control._

"_Yes. Yes, usually it does," he says. This only makes you all laugh harder. "I mean there was this one time," he continues, "where this hottie shot me down but turns out she was gay." Mark looks as if his whole world has crashed around him._

"_Well at least one girl out there has her priorities in line," Arizona taunts. "And I have to say, even if I was straight I still don't think I'd have fallen for it."_

_Mark looks her over for a brief moment as her statement sinks in._

"_Well then, lets ask the straight girls here how they would have responded. Don't you think?" he asks._

_Arizona only smirks back at him and nods her head for him to continue before shifting her eyes back to the three of you._

"_Teddy." Mark starts on his left. "Straight?"_

_She giggles and nods her head yes. Mark gives a dramatic pause before turning the charm back on. _

"_So Barbie, what's your story?"_

_Teddy's face contorts as she tries to take this seriously. She fails, laughs anyways, and shakes her head. "Nope. Definitely not working on me."_

_You all laugh again. _

"_Seriously?" Mark asks because he clearly is dead serious. When Teddy just shakes her head at him, he moves on._

"_Addison, straight?"_

"_Last time I checked." She tosses her ponytail and levels her eyes on Mark._

"_So Red, what's your story?"_

_This time there is the longest pause of the night. Then Addison sighs. "Dammit, it so would have worked on me!"_

_This only makes you all laugh more._

_He focuses on you._

"_Callie, straight?"_

_You've been so caught up in everyone else that you forgot eventually it would be your turn. You hate this question. It should be simple but your life is never simple. You decide to go with honest. And at the same time old habit kicks in and you lean forward from your seat, tilt your head towards him, and bite the corner of your bottom lip for a brief second before responding._

"_Most of the time."_

_Mark's eyes widen slightly at that but he continues. "So…" And then he falters as he desperately tries to come up with a nickname for you. You grin back at him and then he does it. _

"_So, Chica. What's your story?"_

_You can't help it. You tilt your head back and give in to the throaty laughter that comes tumbling out. _

"_Chica? That's the best you got?"_

"_Yes, very original Mark." Arizona pats his knee again and the conversation shifts and soon the cab is pulling up to the restaurant and you don't have to figure out what your answer to Mark's question would have been._

* * *

Arizona's fingers are snapping in front of your face. It jolts you back to the classroom. You realize that while you were daydreaming you apparently were staring at Mark at the same time. You raise one eyebrow at him as if he needs your fake encouragement and watch as he settles lower in his seat, smug written all over his face. You turn your attention back to Arizona and the teacher.

Ten minutes later the two of you have stumbled pretty successfully through the dialogue in Setswana. You, already being bilingual, have a pretty natural knack for picking up languages and you have to admit you are a little shocked when Arizona matches you word for word. The teacher only interferes and helps twice.

Lunch is called and you go back to your seat to grab your purse as Arizona swings her satchel over her shoulder. Mark starts to ask where Teddy and Addison are so that you can head down to the cafeteria, where lunch is being held, together. Arizona dodges the question and makes some excuse to leave and the next thing you notice is blonde curls disappearing around the corner. You shrug, loop your arm through Mark's, and head in the direction of food.

The two of you spot Addison down the hall but then Arizona swoops in, grabs Teddy's arm, and tugs her in the opposite direction of the cafeteria.

"What was that all about?" Addison asks.

"No idea," Mark says.

The three of you look back down the now empty hallway.

"I'm telling you that chick hates me," you offer. "She looks at me like she either wants to take a swing or tell me off, and can't decide which. Unless she's drunk. She's delightful when she's intoxicated."

You all laugh at the truth of it, loop arms and head towards lunch.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

"Where are we going?" Teddy jogs to keep up with you as you still have a firm grip on her bicep.

You don't respond until you pull her out the door and into the air. You scan the area until you see a bench of sorts a few yards off. Once you tug her there, you release her, and collapse onto the wood.

"Arizona, what's going on?"

You don't look at her, but instead pull your aviators out of your bag and slap them on.

"I needed some air and a quiet place except I just sat through a lecture about not going anywhere alone and so I'm following the rules," you say.

You prepare yourself for Teddy to tell you off. To tell you to just ask next time instead of grabbing and man-handing her outdoors. Instead she sits down next to you and waits. After a few moments of silence she speaks.

"Arizona, I know I don't know you very well but your emotions seem all over the place. One moment you're cheerful and perky and the next you look distraught and Addison mentioned that you've been having screaming nightmares every night so far."

Her sentence trails off, leaving it open ended and putting the ball clearly in your court. You tug your knees to your chest, wishing you had the personality to just fuck the rules and escape for a moment by yourself.

"And now you're crying," she says.

You raise a tentative hand to your eyes, which are indeed producing silent tears. You sigh but keep your face looking straight ahead.

"It's nothing. I just needed a moment is all," you try.

She waits, doesn't respond and eventually you continue.

"Do you think signing up for the Peace Corps. and being sent to Africa in order to escape your life, is a bad idea?"

"Depends on what you're running from."

Her voice is soft, gentle and you finally turn your head to look at her as she scans your sunglass-blocked face for a clue.

You turn back and stare out straight ahead for a few moments as your breathing slows and you feel your eyes dry up. You wipe your cheeks.

"I guess that's true." And that's all you give her before standing up. "I'm okay now, let's go get some lunch."

This time you wait for Teddy to consent to the change in location. She smiles at you, a sad smile, but then she stands up and follows you back inside.

* * *

"Okay everyone. Make sure you have good walking shoes on and whatever else you want. We'll be gone for the rest of the day. Waters are in the buckets by the door. Meet out front in ten minutes."

The leader finishes speaking and you all stand to gather yourselves before going outside to get on the bus that will take you around the local areas for a mini tour.

"Need anything from the room?" Addison leans over Teddy who is sitting next to you. "I'm gonna go grab the sunblock."

"No, I'm good but I will use some of the sunscreen when you get back," you say.

She nods and disappears.

"Teddy, I'm gonna grab a jacket." Callie scoots down a few seats tell she is next to your friend.

"Actually I was gonna go grab a tampon. Want me to grab your coat?" Teddy asks and when Callie tells her sure, she too disappears.

"Hey Teddy!" Callie calls to her from across the room. "Arizona and I will get seats on the bus so when you're done find Addie and meet us."

"Okay!" Teddy shouts back and then heads towards the stairs that lead to the dormitory.

You notice that Callie shifts nervously in front of you as if wondering what to say. You sigh to yourself as you have obviously made her uncomfortable which was never really your intention. She's nice. Different from you but nice. You haven't made much of an effort to be friendly except on that night when you were clearly drunk over the moon. You gave Addison a chance and she is not the type of girl you'd normally befriend and you have to admit, Addison is kinda cool.

"Should we head to the bus?" You ask, leaning down to scoop up your bag. You grab Callie's off the floor and hand it to her. You give her a smile that you hope says- _sorry for being a bitch._

She returns the smile and nods, lets you lead the way towards the doors. Mark catches up with the two of you as your boarding the exhausted looking bus.

"Hey girls. Want to sit together?"

Normally it would be a seemingly typical question but the way Mark says it implies that it is anything but typical. The dirty practically drips off his tone.

Callie laughs as she leads the way, you close behind her. She steps to the side when she reaches the middle of the bus and gestures for you to slide in. After you do she slides in next to you, glancing at Mark.

"Sorry, but there's no room." Her tone smirks back at him.

"Too bad. I guess I'll just sit behind the two of you then."

He moves to slide into the next seat.

You reach for Callie's bag and haul both her purse and yours over the seat and toss them on the plastic bench behind you.

"Those are for Addison and Teddy," you say.

You stare back at him with laughter in your eyes. He groans and Callie laughs along with you. He shifts back to the walkway but by now the bus is crammed and the next available seat is four rows behind you.

"I see how it is," he shouts, laughing as he sits himself down next to some other girl and immediately strikes up a conversation with her. His voice can still be heard over the other people in the nearby seats.

"So Blue Eyes, what's your story?"

You and Callie immediately look at the girl he is chatting up who clearly has dark _dark_ brown eyes. She however seems to have forgotten what color her eyes are and immediately starts eating out of Mark's hand. He smirks back at the two of you and you roll your eyes, turn back around in your seat and collapse into carefree giggles against Callie's shoulder.

* * *

Four hours later and the bus is now winding its away along a dirt road that is surrounded by flat grasslands on either side. The planes are overgrown with some type of pretty looking wildflower. The bus comes to a stop and the driver gets out to inspect something. A few minutes later he climbs back on board to inform you all that a filter clogged with the excessive dust. He says something about the lack of rain this season. He informs you all that you can get out and walk around but not to wonder too far as it won't take long to get running again.

You all grab your waters and file out of the bus. The sky is starting to change colors and you lean your body against the backside of the bus where your little group has relocated itself. You tell them you'll be back in a little bit.

You start to wander down the road until you are a little ways away from the other volunteers. You make your way through the high grass being careful not to disturb anything. You grew up all over the globe and hiking through grass on the look out for snakes is not something that is new to you.

When you get a few yards out, you scan the area once before plopping yourself down. You can still hear the faint sounds of the group so you are confident that you'll hear when it is time to get moving.

Your eyes shut and you give yourself a moment to digest some of the images you've seen today. The bus had made its way through several small towns nearby and you know that they avoided showing the built-up and thriving city areas because that is not where any of you will be sent. Instead they focused on the poverty and the disease filled areas. The looks on some of the faces that you saw today, through dirty bus windows, are hard to shake.

For the first time since you arrived you understand why some people sign up for this. There is so much that needs to be done. You had to literally grip the seat on the bus to keep yourself from standing up and shouting at the driver.

_What are we all doing going on a tour? What are we all doing sitting in classes all day? There are so __many who need our help. Now. They need help now. Right now_.

You wanted to rush off that bus and help that woman who didn't have enough hands to walk her children across the street.

You wanted to scoop up that child who was so thin and give him the snacks that were in your satchel.

You wanted to go and sit down with that group of kids who looked like they couldn't wait to get out of this life because every day was exactly the same as the day before. You wanted to pull out a children's story and read to them just to change up their pace for a brief moment.

You wanted to join the two little ones who were splashing in a puddle that had been left behind from a spilled water container. You wanted to grab their hands and take them to see the ocean.

You know the time will come where you can be effective. And you know the goal of the organization is not to just help for brief moments but to help in ways that will make lasting changes on the community. You know you have to wait. You know that you will get your turn.

Hearing that the life expectancy for most of the Batswanas, the citizens of Botswana, is only forty years, tugs are your heart. HIV and AIDS are everywhere.

Images of your brother's face float through your memory. His young, tanned, and healthy face. And then the images of blood coursing down those features and then pouring out of his chest take over. He will not live to be forty either.

You never imagine him dying in his uniform, which he surely did. Instead you always see him with his chest bare and jean shorts slung over his slender hips. His hair catches the sun and his white teeth smile back at you, his own dimples popping out in delight at you being there. He is Timothy, the golden boy of your childhood. He always looks like this in your nightmares.

And then suddenly you hear gunshots and bombs are going off and none of it makes sense because you and Timothy are at the beach, right? And then you see the bullet pierce his perfect healthy body. And then there is the blood.

Your hands do what they always do. They search for the wound and they try to stop the blood. All the chaos of the background fades and it is just you and Timothy. Your brain feels like sludge as you try to draw up all the medical knowledge you know but you simply do not know enough. And Timothy does not say anything to make these final moments any easier. He moans in pain and his eyes start to glaze over.

And you're shouting at him to stay with you, to stay, stay, stay.

Your Timothy would have been brave even if he still was only a boy. He would have clasped your hand and told you, Arizona, all the things you had to do. All the promises you would have to make even if he wasn't there to see. He would not have been vague. Tim was never a vague person.

He would have told you to kick butt at John-Hopkins and that after you became an intern you better get picked for the first assist, the first solo surgery, and eventually chief resident.

He would have told you to find that girl. To never give in to defeat and to risk everything before letting her fall away.

He would have told you to dance extra hard at your wedding. To dance as if he was in fact there beside you.

He would have told you to talk about him often with Mom and Dad no matter how hard it was because not talking about their son, in the long run, would only be more painful.

And he would have told you to make a habit of helping others. And not just a pro-bono surgery every once in a while. He would have said to make a habit of buying extra food at the grocery store and then stopping somewhere on the way home to feed a homeless man. He would have said for you to talk to under-privileged children about reaching for their dreams. And how anyone could become a doctor if they wanted. He would have insisted that you sponsor a student through college and medical school, a student who would never be able to dream that big without financial assistance.

He would have been delighted to learn that you were here in Botswana finally aching to make a difference.

These are the things your Timothy would have done. But right now he is silent and you know you can't stop the blood and yet you still try and you scream yourself hoarse yelling for help.

And then a soft voice floats in and you look around for its source but you can't find it. You yell at it because maybe they can help but by then Timothy is still and you no longer can hear the soft drum of his heart underneath your hands.

_Ooh child things are gonna get easier_

_Ooh child things'll get brighter_

_Ooh child things are gonna get easier_

_Ooh child things'll get brighter_

The voice collapses over you and surrounds you so completely as your whole body falls onto Timothy's chest, your hands finally stilling in their frantic movements.

_Someday yeah, we'll put it together and we'll get it undone_

_Someday when your head is much lighter_

_Someday yeah, we'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun_

_Someday when the world is much brighter_

Finally you notice that your body is no longer on top of Timothy's. Instead it is resting on the sand and you are alone. You curl instinctively into a ball and that is when the tears start. They pour out of your eyes and you feel them fall down your face and onto your shoulders and along your neck.

Slowly you become aware that you are not on sand but instead you are buried in deep dry grass that covers you from view. The wildflowers surround your body and the sky is still fading. You can hear the other volunteers a ways off. Yet, the sweet voice is still there.

_Ooh child things are gonna get easier_

_Ooh child things'll get brighter_

You pick your head up and glance around for it. And then you see her. She is only a few feet to your left but not at all aware of your presence. Callie stands with her arms hugging her own shoulders as the wind sweeps over her and sends her hair in every direction. She turns slightly and you can see her lips moving as she finishes her song.

_Ooh child things are gonna get easier_

_Ooh child things'll get brighter_

_Right now_

Her own eyes are wet and you watch the fading light bounce off her skin. The last note is still lingering when her eyes shift over to where you are and then her voice abruptly stops when she sees you.

Neither of you make a move. Instead you get caught up in her and the way she is looking back at you.

"That was beautiful." You can't help it. She has to know what her voice can do.

She blushes deeply and takes a few steps towards you and then sinks to her knees beside your spot.

"I didn't know anyone was near enough to hear." Her eyes trace over your own tear tracks.

You brush your face to remove the evidence but find yourself speaking again, barely above a whisper.

"I lost my brother a few months ago. And now I'm here." You raise your hands to gesture slightly at your surroundings. "And I miss him. I miss him all the time."

She nods her head as if she is not surprised.

"That's so sad Arizona," she whispers.

Callie doesn't make a move to touch you but her body does lean forward slightly. Her voice is so soft and you feel as if she is humming just to try and comfort you but she isn't humming at all and yet you still feel her comfort.

The two of you are quiet for a long moment before she speaks again.

"I could see it in your eyes. All the time. The sadness."

You laugh slightly and try to brush her compassion off but the noise you make comes out as a sob and she continues. "I hope you aren't sad forever."

And it is the most you've said about Timothy since he died. And it is the most genuine thing anyone has said to you probably forever.

"Who were you singing to?" You ask because her own face is marked with tears and emotion.

She pauses for a second. "The children. I guess. All those kids today. No one should have to live like that."

And you get it. You really really get it.

You both pick your heads up when you hear the instructor's voice coming across the fields telling you that it is time to load back up.

Callie turns her face to look at you once more before pushing herself up and offering her hand. You reach out until your fingers grasp tightly onto hers and her skin is so warm and soft and the last word that comes to you is so surprising that you try to forget it.

She pulls you to your feet and takes a step towards the bus. Your arms stretch out between the two of you, hands still clasped, as she moves and you don't. She turns back to you, tilts her face and smiles this really tiny smile at you before nodding her head.

"You can do it." She pauses and you feel the slight pressure on your hand where she is tightening her grip to remind you that she is there. "You can."

And you do.

You follow her back to the group and she only lets go of your hand once the two of you reach the bus. And the loss of her skin reminds you of what you first felt.

_Safe._ Callie's hand. Callie's voice. Callie just as she is makes you feel so very very safe.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Wanted to say a few things about my choice for the 2nd person POV. I know it can be a bit challenging to read. It requires more attention from a reader then most are use to. It's why few publishable things are written that way. I get it. It's why I choose that POV on occasion. It is a challenge for me too. I enjoy that. Might not always be the best decision, but I'm interested in trying new things and seeing if I can pull them off. Some believe I can, others not. That's fine! I'm not interested in writing safe, everyone loves my style, stories. If this were a novel, the POV would obviously not change or if it did, it would change less frequently. But it's a fic. A silly fic that I use as a writing exercise to try new things. So, read it or not, whichever! It's your decision as a reader and that's what makes being a reader so empowering, you get to decide when to stop and when to continue on :)**

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

It's been hours since the bus got back and currently Addison's soft snores are the only sound as they float through the room. They have this steady and even pattern that you get caught up in, keeping your own sleep at bay. You punch your pillow in order to get out of your head knowing you need your sleep. The safety that is Callie, which is weird and you really don't want to think much about it, has completely faded. Every time you start to close your eyes images of Timothy surge forward. You barely exchanged words with Addison when you trudged up to your room. She had stripped out of her clothes and pulled on a t-shirt before plowing under the covers of her bed. She was out within ten minutes.

Addison was exhausted. You all were. How could you not be? A full morning of lessons followed by the day being spent touring the poorest areas, images flashing before your eyes as the bus made its way down the crowded streets. Part of you knows that if you fall asleep your nightmares will surface, no hopes of being waken by Callie's sweet song.

You slide out of bed and toss a hoodie on over your t-shirt. You hike your sweats up slightly so that you can slip your flip-flops on. The rules say not to leave the dormitory after hours but nobody ever said anything about wandering the halls or the common area.

You sneak down the stairs that lead to the classrooms. The common room is empty and pitch black. You grab an abandoned water bottle that is half full, shrug at the fact that you have no idea who it belongs to. You wipe the top off and take a sip.

The moon kinda gleams through the room from the large slider that lines one side of the wall. You push the small couch from the corner of the room so that it faces the windows. As you pull back the blinds, you hope to hope that the building isn't alarmed. Your eyes squint slightly as you flip the lock and tug the window open. Nothing sounds. You breathe a sigh of relief as you push the slider back. Technically you have not left the building, yet this is almost as good as being outside.

You snuggle into the couch as you watch the sliver of moon splash against the pavement on the other side of the slider. Your eyes are heavy and they blink back the sleep and here, you figure, your screaming at least won't disturb anyone else. You imagine your screams being ripped from your throat only to be swallowed by the wind, drowning as if taken out to sea.

You've barely been in this spot for longer then fifteen minutes when you hear footsteps in the hall outside the room. You duck behind the back of the couch, hoping it shields you from view. The door opens and Callie stands there taking in the breeze from outside that filters through the room.

"Hey. It's me," you call out, watching as Callie squints in your direction.

"Arizona?" she asks.

"Um hm," you confirm. "Couldn't sleep either?"

You lower your voice as she comes closer so not to shout in the dark room. She sits down next to you and curls her legs to her chest as you lean back into the nook created by the couch and the armrest.

"Something like that," she says.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a long time. You glance over at her to see if she has fallen asleep. Her face turns to yours when she feels you looking at her. She looks really young in this moment. Her dark locks create this hazy look that combined with her make-up free face, whispers innocence.

"Tell me more about your brother," she says, her voice kind. It isn't a question; it's almost like a plea.

And you do. You tell her about the boy he was and the man he would have been. You tell her how he always teased you like big brothers do but that as soon as the two of you were alone he turned into this huge softy. You tell her about that sign that followed you through your childhood. She laughs when you tell her how he responded when you came out to him. And she shifts a little closer when you whisper about the last time you saw him. Her arm brushes against yours when you tell her how he died. And she blinks her own tears back when you say how all your family got, in the end, was a flag.

When she tugs at your sleeve you allow yourself to lie down so that your head rests in Callie's lap. And she doesn't stroke your hair or cup your face; instead she just rests her arms against your body in this really easy way. And you pause for the briefest of moments before you tell her one last thing about Timothy.

You know he died honorably. You respect it. You are reverent. And you are proud.

But people have been approaching you since he died, telling you how brave he was. And he was. But oh how you wish he hadn't been. You wish with your whole heart that he had dropped out of basic training or been sent home early for a bad attitude. You wish he had considered college or career or freakin homelessness before he had signed up. And you know this is not how you should feel, at least this is not how your family expects you to feel. But Timothy? You would trade his honor and his pride every single day for the chance to watch him meet someone, fall in love, find a passion, and eventually grow old. And selfishly, you want him to be there to flash you that smile when you do all those things right behind him.

When you finish, you wait for her response or an action that signals that you were heard. Nothing comes. You pull your upper body up to look over your shoulder to see if she is asleep. But she isn't there. You swear you felt her skin against yours only moments ago and your eyes scan the dark, trying to search for her. And then you hear screaming. It sounds like it is in the distance but it quickly comes roaring up on you as if the source is right next to you. Beside you. On you. In you.

And that's when you jolt awake. You gasp as you take in the morning light that is filtering through the sky. You tug at your t-shirt which is damp with sweat. You shed your hoodie in order to be able to breathe.

It was a dream. Clearly. You must have passed out as soon as your body hit the couch. Still though, you glance around the deserted common room looking for a sign that Callie was there. You don't find anything and you hate yourself for it.

You don't even know this girl and she what? Sings to herself, you eavesdrop on said singing, and now she appears in your dreams like a savior? It's ridiculous. All of it. You glance down at your watch, tug your hoodie back on and notice that breakfast will be ready in an hour.

You make your way up the stairs, quietly.

Apparently though not quiet enough.

"Ooh. Doing the walk of shame."

Mark's voice is leering at you from down half a flight of stairs and you whip around to meet it.

"I am so _not_ doing the walk of shame," you say.

You insist on it because that rumor is definitely not one you need floating around this place. Gay girl seducing the unknown in the dead of night? _Geesh_.

"So was it that one cutie on the first floor, Laura? Or maybe Heather up on your floor but then why would you be taking the stairs?"

Mark is rambling and it is annoying so you go straight for evidence.

"Shut it Mark," you say, pointing a finger at him. He raises an eyebrow at you but you continue on. "First off," you start, whipping your hood off from your head, "this is not sex hair."

You point at said hair, hoping it isn't your normal bed head. Because your typical bed head looks remarkably like sex hair. Damn. Stupid. Not. At. All. Convincing.

And clearly Mark thinks the same because he just continues to smirk at you.

"And second off..." You glance around hoping inspiration will hit. And then it does. You tug the top of your sweat pants down just slightly so that your white cotton underwear are a little visible. You gesture at the material. "No sexy panties means you are every way wrong," you finish, triumph evident in your voice.

You snap back the elastic of your sweats, rolling your eyes at Mark and his obvious turned on-ness from your dumb innocent panties. _Whatever_.

Mark's own appearance, sweaty and gross, finally catches your eye. "You run?"

This seems to snap him out of it and he follows you as you make your way to your floor.

"Everyday Blue Eyes. Everyday."

You laugh because Mark is fit but there is no way Mark runs everyday; he does not have the discipline. Plus there is no way Mark got up early enough to have been out running for longer then 30 minutes. And he is sweating a lot.

"What's so funny?" he asks. Mark's voice sounds like a little girl who is about to be made fun of for wearing bows in her braids.

"Nothing," you say. "You just don't strike me as a runner."

"And what. You are?" he responds.

You look over your shoulder at him and tilt your head to the side for a second before turning back and pulling open the door of your floor.

"I could be a runner except I also listen to the rules that say, no going out alone. Dumbass." You can't help poking at Mark because he is so the kind of guy you have been trying to avoid forever. "Besides," you continue, "I could run circles around you, sing a song, forgo water and not be nearly as out of breath as you are right now."

"Robbins." Sloan's voice demands you to turn around and face him.

You do, raising your eyebrows at whatever challenge he is about to make.

And then he says it. "Game on."

You giggle, shake your head, and pull open the door to your room, praying Addison won't ask any questions.

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

All day you have been waiting for it. It should have started by now. With anyone else you would have been swallowed by it at this point.

The awkwardness.

You found Arizona crying in the weeds. She overheard you singing to nobody. The two of you talked in very few syllables. There was handholding and comfort being thrown every which way. She fell asleep on the bus with her head on your shoulder. And today?

There should be awkwardness or at least ignoring-ness. Yet every time you look at her or every time you glance up to see her looking at you, there is only easy smiles.

You and Teddy were sitting down with your breakfast when Addison and Arizona approached your table this morning. Arizona sat down next to you, leaned over and whispered ever so sincerely. She thanked you for yesterday and that was it.

That was thirty minutes ago and everything still seems just as it was. So you go with it.

"So, Arizona, what's this I hear about you mooning Sloan this morning?" Addison asks, taking a huge bite out of muffin after she asks her question.

You and Teddy glance over at Arizona who has cereal on her spoon, her hand paused mid-way to her mouth.

"How do you even know about that? I've been with you this entire morning and we haven't even seen Mark yet?" Arizona asks.

You decide to jump in. "Hm, you don't really strike me as the exhibitionist type." You can't help but make fun of her, especially when she starts blushing like that. And now, here comes the rambling.

"First off! Mooning is not exhibitionism. And second off, I didn't moon him! I barely showed him a peak of the good stuff. And it was only to prove a point. A very important point!" she shouts, trying to convince you all.

Arizona's spoon is flying all over as it sends little droplets of milk over Teddy.

"Said you even had a hot black number going on," Teddy offers, smirking at her and you can't help but laugh as mortification strikes Arizona's face. She glances at all of you, finally reading your faces.

"Shut it," she says, pointing at Addison, Teddy, and you. "You guys are mean."

Addison laughs as she finally swallows her bite of muffin.

"Really Addison, how did you know?" Arizona asks once more as she goes back to her breakfast.

Addison only smirks back. "I have my ways."

* * *

The day is full of lessons and finally after lunch the group heads in to the meeting hall to hear about the host families for the remaining of the training. The instructor goes on about what you can expect and what your responsibilities are towards your host family, and they to you.

You lean over to Addison who is sitting next to you.

"I hope we get placed somewhere near each other," you say.

"Tell me about it."

The guy is handing out a list of people's names and the names of their host families, along with locations. Everyone will be placed with these families for only a few months before the real assignments are given out. And everyone will be within walking distance of the training facility.

A list is finally passed to Arizona who is sitting on your other side. You lean over her and scan it for your name. Nothing. You scan it again and still you don't see a Callie or even a Calliope Torres in sight.

"I can't find my name," you whisper.

Arizona's own whisper comes back to you. "Me either."

Addison overhears you both and yanks the sheet from your hands telling you both that you are obviously going blind. She scans the sheet, finds her own information, copies it down, and then goes back to it.

"Hm. You're right. No Torres, no Robbins. Maybe you've been washed out."

"This isn't the Marines, Addie." Teddy is now craning her neck to see over Addison's shoulder.

"Can I see Torres and Robbins up front?" The voice comes from across the room. You look over to Arizona who is wide-eyed. You shrug your shoulders and follow her to the front desk.

"Calliope? Arizona?" The man points at each of you when you get to the front. You wince at the use of your full name but nod your head along with Arizona.

"We have a situation," he starts. "We set-up the host families months ahead, lots of them have been doing this for years. It's all set long before any of you guys get here. Then we make sure things are situated before tonight. Torres, the family we had you placed with had an unexpected death in the family just a few days ago. They aren't really in a place to take in a volunteer. Normally we have a few other families we could turn to but this group of volunteers is big. We don't have the extras."

You are starting to get nervous.

"Robbins," he turns to Arizona, "your family is one of the few that has the room for another volunteer. However, it is our policy that every volunteer be placed in a home with their own room and a lock on their own door. If Torres were to be placed with you, obviously we wouldn't be able to give you that. We would need consent from both of you to place you together. Otherwise Torres, you might be staying here at the training facility for-"

"Oh, god no! It's fine. Super fine with me. No problem. Where do I sign?" Arizona cuts the man off but then stops briefly and looks at you. "Ooh sorry. Jumped right in there. That okay with you?"

This is more than okay with you. Your heart rate slows when you realize they aren't shipping you back to the states or making you stay alone in the dormitories. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

The two of you grab pens and sign where the instructor points and then he hands you each a slip of paper with your host family's name and location. You are trying to remember where this exact area is when Arizona speaks up.

"I think it's about an hours walk from here."

You nod in agreement.

"Can I just say that I'm super relieved?" Arizona touches your elbow to stop you from walking back to the group as she talks. "I've been kinda freakin out about the idea of being somewhere foreign and new and alone."

You watch her bite her lip in nervousness because obviously she assumes you can not relate. You do strut around here all day with your badassness so you can't really blame her for misreading you.

"You are not alone in the feeling," you confide, laughing as she visibly relaxes and the two of you head back to the others who all look like they are wondering when you'll be arriving back in America.

Later that evening all of you have your bags ready to go and are waiting for your host families to arrive. Some have vehicles of their own that will transport you to their homes. Others will be driven by the organization's vehicles. Still others are close enough that walking with their bags will not be a big deal. All five of you are remarkable close to each other and in the same general direction. The plan is for Mark to meet you and Arizona on the main road in the morning and then the three of you will pick up Addison and then Teddy as you walk to the training facility.

You pull Addison in close and then Teddy as their hosts arrive and tell them you will see them in the morning. You watch as Teddy pulls Arizona into a tight hug, whispers something and then shyly goes to meet her family. Addison hugs Arizona too and tells her good luck dodging cell phones. You have no idea why they both crack up at this.

You then nudge Arizona and giggle when Addison kinda skips over and attempts some horrible Setswana, laughs, and gives a shocked African woman a huge hug. You both laugh even harder when the woman pulls back and asks Addison in perfect English what her name is.

The place is clearing out fast when one of the instructors directs both of you to a woman who has pulled up in her own van. She hauls a small child out of the back seat and slings him onto her hip. An older boy around 15-years-old slumps out behind them looking bored to death.

Arizona tugs on your elbow as the two of you approach them. You both open your mouth at the same time, start to speak, stop, wait for the other, then start in again at the exact same time. Arizona tilts her head back and laughs before gesturing for you to go ahead. You pause, and then in perfect Setswana introduce yourself and Arizona to the strangers. The woman responds in her native tongue as she points to each of her children and then herself with names. Arizona tells her how excited and grateful you both are for the opportunity to live with them. She falters once on a verb and you save her with the correct pronunciation and then she continues.

"Well the two of you are lovely," the woman says. She smiles at you both as she transitions over to English. Arizona giggles and then leans in to ruffle the little boy's hair who tightens his arms around his mother for a brief moment but then offers a shy smile in Arizona's direction.

"Let me guess. Are you…" Arizona pauses as if she is trying to guess. "Five years old? Botlhano?" She holds up five fingers and then points at him. You all watch their interaction as the child picks his head up and studies Arizona.

"No. No. Bone?" Arizona asks, holding up four fingers. The child finally gives in.

"Borataro!" He holds up six fingers.

"Borataro?!" Arizona looks shocked and the boy looks pleased. The two of you received a print out earlier of who you would be living with, names and ages included.

And just like that any nervousness you had seems to float away. The older boy helps lift your bags into the back, ignores your thank you. You shrug in Arizona's direction and she just mouths, _boys_, at you. You laugh again and then you are off.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

You shut the door behind the two of you and collapse against the wood, letting your legs sink, sliding to the floor.

"Oh my god. How cute is Baruti?" you ask Callie.

Callie stands on the other side of the room inspecting your window. She pulls on something until you hear a distinctive locking sound.

"He's adorable. Even more adorable over here with the baby whisper," she responds, pointing a thumb at you as she sits down on the bed.

You blush because it is so not the first time someone has called you that.

"I'm exhausted," Callie huffs out, stretching her upper body by raising her arms over her head, and clasping her hands together.

You've been thinking about how to tell her. The whole car ride here, you had one half of your brain on the conversation, the other half on how to talk to Callie. You can't put it off any longer and it needs to be said.

"So there is something I probably should have said earlier," you start, pacing around the room, biting on a thumbnail, dodging her questioning eyes. "Honestly it didn't occur to me at first and then when it did I thought they'd move you to a different house or something and then I'd be the one ending up in the dormitory all alone and I don't know why but the idea of being the only one in that giant building kinda freaks me out. So I figured I'd just tell you when, well you know-"

Callie cuts you off with wide eyes, both of her hands on your shoulders.

"Stop."

You stop.

"Breathe," she instructs.

You breathe.

After a few moments of you being calm, she talks. "Is this about your nightmares?"

"I'm gonna go, right now. I'm either gonna go ask Tapiwa out there for a blanket. I'll sleep outside. Far away from anyone else. Or maybe just start walking back to the training-"

Callie cuts off your ramble again. She raises her voice this time and you watch her eyes widen in exasperation as she says your name. You find her brown eyes which are every way kind.

"Go, put your pajamas on," Callie says. "Grab your toothbrush. Wait by the door until I'm ready and we can go figure out this no running water deal together. And not another word."

You nod your head and then kinda spring into action. At one point your realize that you're moving uber fast because in that moment Callie's voice sounded like your fathers. And when you, Arizona Robbins, daughter of The Colonel, hear schedule, you hop to. And your laughter is soft at first as you pull off your t-shirt and kick down your jeans. You turn your back to Callie because your feelings are all over for this girl.

One moment she annoys you to no end. The next she makes you angry, like punch a person, angry. Then she's all comfort and safety, which in hindsight pisses you off too. Then in your dreams she asks you about Timothy, which makes you confused. She doesn't seem to mind the idea of your nightmares, which makes you grateful. And it's not like you're blind. Callie is a walking goddess. And you have a feeling if you see her naked, you may very well fall in love with her.

So you pull your sports bra off and reach into your backpack and grab a long sleeve thermal. You keep laughing even as you tug the material down your body.

You laugh at the fact that you are in freakin Africa.

You laugh at the fact that you are here with Callie.

You laugh at the fact that the two of you are off to pee in a hole in the ground.

You laugh at Mark.

And Teddy.

And Addison.

And you laugh at how all of you seem like forever friends.

It's a bizarre world.

And all of it compounded with the fact that you haven't slept soundly in three months just sort of perpetuates the delirious factor. Hence your laughter.

You pull on a pair of black running shorts thinking they will be easier to maneuver when you do have to squat in the unknown. You tug on your sneakers, the laughter still trickling out of your throat. And then you hear Callie's behind you. It mingles with your own and you know she too is laughing at just all of it.

Because it is so big and unexpected and neither of you have any idea what tomorrow brings. You have never felt this small in your individual world before. You reckon it might just be the same for the beautiful, laughing girl beside you.

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

"Alright."

"Alright."

"This is the plan."

Arizona nods her head at you, blonde curls springing loose from her ponytail.

You rummage through your backpack until you find your flashlight. Then you continue.

"We'll just brush and spit on the ground cause trying to figure out the water pump and whatever sink that was in the kitchen looks difficult. Plus it's late. And dark."

"Agreed."

"Then-" You stumble on your next words because you haven't really planned this far.

"I'm really looking forward to you coming up with a plan for this next part," Arizona teases.

"Okay. The peeing will have to be a little, figure it out as we go," you ammend.

"On three," Arizona says.

She puts her hand, palm down, in the air in front of you. You put yours on top of hers as the two of you count to three, shout break, and head out of your bedroom.

The teeth brushing goes fine. Obviously that's the easy part of The Operation. You both have a water bottle and you brush, spit and rinse with ease. As you approach the 'bathroom,' Arizona loops her arm through yours so that the light from your flashlight hits the ground where you both walk.

You flick your light over the little shed that this family uses as their outhouse. You both pause, sizing up the situation.

"It looks as intimidating as it did when they showed us it over two hours ago," Arizona says, her voice tiny and all serious.

She is dead on and you giggle at her.

"Okay, I'm going in," she says.

Arizona bounces from one foot to another in front of you. It's clearly her pee dance meet nervousness.

You nod.

"Shine the light over the top so that I can see the bucket, k?" she asks.

You nod again and Arizona disappears behind the make-shift door. Not even a full minute later she emerges, looking extremely pleased with herself. You roll your eyes at her smugness and laugh when she says, "If there were an Olympic sport for peeing into a bucket, I would so win."

You hand her the light and the two of you exchange positions. You close the door behind you and situated yourself. The light barely illuminates the outside of the bucket.

"I need more light, dude," you instruct.

You are only met with giggles.

"Arizona!" you shout.

"I am. I am. But I'm not really tall enough to get the light over the door! _Dude_."

You hear her shuffle as she tries to grow. You groan and decide the little bit of light is plenty. But you can't pee. You have to. You really do. But you can't.

"You okay in there?" Arizona's voice floats through the shed.

"I think I have stage fright." You squeak it out and she bursts into laughter as you hike your shorts back up your legs and swing the door open. "I'm not kidding. It was the same when I had to do the drug test before being accepted into the program. I don't do drugs but I got all nervous!"

This only makes her laugh harder. Finally she sobers up when you punch her shoulder.

"Okay. Okay. You need to forget I'm here," she says, shrugging her shoulders like clearly this is the most brilliant solution ever.

"Not so easy when you're laughing your head off!" you shoot back.

"Hm," Arizona taps her finger against her lip. "Excellent point."

This time she mimes silence by pretending to zip her mouth shut.

You give her another pointed look before returning to the shed. Three silent minutes later you hear something. It is clearly coming from the other side of the door and it is clearly Arizona but you have no idea what it is.

"Swoosh. Woosh. Drip. Drip. Trickle. Trickle."

And then you get it.

"Arizona!"

"Hey. I thought it would help!"

"Except it doesn't actually sound like real water sounds!"

"I'm doing the best I can!"

The two of you are stage shouting through a shed door, in the dead of night, in an unknown country, in an unknown village, with a practical stranger for a companion. It's ridiculous.

You sigh. "I'll just hold it." You again come out behind the door.

But Arizona is blocking your exit, both her hands raised at you.

"No. No, no. I am not getting up in the middle of the night so that you can pee. Absolutely not,"she says.

"Fine. I'll come out alone." You cross your arms at her.

"And then tomorrow I'm the girl who let her roommate go out by herself and get eaten by a tiger? I don't think so."

You can't help but laugh at that.

"Tiger?" you ask, eyebrows raised.

"Whatever," Arizona brushes you off. "Okay, try once more. I have an idea." She shoos you back to the toilet.

You get situated and try really really hard to just pee so the two of you can get the heck out of here. And then you start to laugh at the new sound you are hearing. You are pretty certain what it is and it makes you giggle. A lot. It is so _not_ helping but Arizona trying her damnedest is kinda adorable. And finally you do pee even though you know for certain that it has nothing to do with Arizona's faux waterfall sounds.

And when you emerge, to her cheering, your suspicions are confirmed. Arizona has the flashlight stuck underneath her chin and both water bottles in her hands. She is pouring all the water from one into the other. And then, back and forth, back and forth.

You laugh and then turn back to grab the bucket as she makes a dramatic step back, away from you. You roll your eyes as she follows you to where they told you to dump said bucket. After you do, you return the bucket and gesture for her to pour some water on your hands as you wash up.

"Wow, Calliope. That's friendship."

You look up to where she is standing next to you, awe on her face. You laugh again and the two of you head back inside. Your mind notices briefly that she caught your full name at some point. It also points out that you seem not to mind one bit. You push open your bedroom door and user her in. The two of you climb under the sheets and in record time you are floating off to sleep.

"Goodnight Calliope," Arizona sing-songs to you.

"Goodnight Waterfall," you say.

Four hours later you wake to her horrible screams.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

The next three weeks go by somewhat smoothly. You and Callie get better at Operation Waterfall. You can practically pour the water from one bottle to the other without spilling and Callie can usually pee within three to four minutes. The two of you get up early in order to help out around the house and have breakfast with your family before heading off for training. You meet Mark on the road and a quarter of a mile down, you all meet Teddy and Addison who wait with each other, as they too are practically neighbors.

Your days are crammed with early mornings, long walks, Setswana lessons, culture infusion and Calliope. Tomorrow is your first official day off and while nobody has concrete plans yet, you are ecstatic. The constant drill of your current routine is comforting in a way. You approve of tight schedules. With schedules there is barely time to miss Timothy. With schedules there is barely even time to remember that your best friend, your brother, no longer even exists in this world. Yesterday you glanced in a mirror and was startled by your reflection. Your skin has a bronzy tan to it and you were shocked to notice some of your former self peering out through your clear blue eyes.

During the first week with Callie, you woke up every night to your own screaming. You are grateful that your room is in, what an American would call, a back house. The distance from the main home allows for your family to not be disturbed by your emotions. Sometimes you wake to Callie shaking your arms, trying to get you to pull yourself out of the dark haze. Other times you shatter awake to your own movement, launching up and off the mattress, your screams piercing the air. Always there is Timothy and the blood and his chest and your hands.

A week of this went on before Callie took the matter into her own hands. For the past few two weeks she has taken up singing you to sleep which is embarrassing and emotionally confusing, but the screaming nightmares have dramatically decreased. Sometimes in the middle of the night you roll over in your sleep, your heart pounding as if you are close to losing it and then her soft voice floats over you. It's like the two of you share this current where whenever your body starts to panic, her own responds with song.

You don't allow yourself to think about it too much, but instead just enjoy the benefits of a more peaceful sleep.

In the mornings you always wake before Callie's alarm goes off. You slide your body out of your warm bed and haul yourself out of the window in your room. A tall, rotted bookcase stands against the back of the building; the weeds overgrown around its base. You scamper up on it and from there it's an easy hop to the roof of your room and you have an awesome view of the sun coming up.

This is how you start your days. You sit and you watch the sun rise, occasionally pulling on a cigarette until you hear the beeps of Callie's alarm. The same thing always happens. You hear her curse, some days more colorful than others. Then you hear the alarm stop. Two full minutes later the snooze goes off again. Another curse.

Today, on this morning, you hear the clock sail across the room, a grunt coming from Calliope's mouth. This is your cue to enter.

You crawl back down and in through the window. Sometimes she mumbles how you are going to get yourself killed on that roof, other mornings she has the pillow jammed against her face, daring you to disturb her.

The first few mornings you tried to wake her like a normal person. Soft calls. Loud calls. Angry calls. Then you moved to jumping on the bed. Once she actually rolled off and still didn't move. Your mad giggling however eventually woke her.

Now, as you peek your head back into the room, climbing in through that window, you start your song. Well, her song.

It isn't the carefully selected song Callie picks out to sing when the two of you are trying to fall asleep. No, it's the one that you wake to in the middle of the night as she lulls you back to sleep. They are sleep induced, random ass songs. The first thing that pops into Callie's head through her sleep induced brain. These are the songs that you recycle back to her come morning.

So far last nights was your favorite. Three Dog Night, _Joy To The_ freakin _World_.

_Jeremiah was a bullfrog_

_Was a good friend of mine_

_I never understood a single word he said_

_But I helped him a-drink his wine_

_And he always had some mighty fine wine_

"I so did not sing that song last night!" Callie sits up in bed, her wild black curls cascading down her shoulders, an indignant look on her face.

"So did." You call out in the middle of your stanza.

_Singin'_

_Joy to the world_

_All the boys and girls now_

_Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea_

_Joy to you and me_

You pause to fill her in on your thoughts.

"In all honesty you sing quietly and on cue and you tend to make even random crazy songs relaxing but still, you so did!" you tell her.

Callie starts to laugh as you dance around the room. You know you sound horrible, but that's the point. Callie isn't going to wake up if you sound like a goddess. Usually within three minutes flat, Callie is out of bed and joining in as she pulls out her clothes for the day.

Today is no different.

This is what you've come to know about Callie. She's fantastic. She is sweet. She sings you songs to stop the nightmares. You get along well.

Yet. Yet. Hm.

People have off days. You know this. And in all previous friendships of yours, these moments roll off, don't impact you, both members move on. But with Callie it seems whenever one of you has an off moment the other seems to overreact and all hell goes flying. It happens kinda a lot. A lot, a lot.

Yesterday being a perfect example.

"_Arizona. I left you over an hour ago, where were you?" Callie asks, her voice sharp._

"_Oh Callie, this is Kefilwe. She actually just graduated from University of Botswana," you say._

_You introduce the two women; sure that Callie will be pleased that you met a friend. When Callie cuts the introduction short and hauls you by the elbow to a quite corner of the outdoor market, you catch on. Somehow you made a mistake._

"_What's going on here Calliope?" Your question is laced with sarcasm as you glance over your shoulder before she finally disposes of you._

"_I gave you three things to do. Three." She holds her fingers up like counting is the issue here._

"_And I got the soap that Tapiwa wanted. And I got the Band-Aids that you requested. I was just on my way to get in line for— what meat did you want, goat this time?" you question._

_If looks could kill, Callie would have you slaughtered by now. She holds up her hand for you to stop talking which kinda pisses you off in return._

"_Arizona," she starts, her lecture voice full on. "The whole point of getting up at dawn and trekking into town just to hike back out and then return in the somewhat same direction for training is to get the meat of our choice that you have to get in line early for. If all we needed for the house was soap and Band-Aids, we'd just stop by on our way home in the evening."_

_Callie is patronizing you. She's standing there with her arms loaded down with bags and her hands on her hips. She gazes down at you from her know-it-all tall height and speaks to you like you're an infant._

_You stare right back at her. "Thanks mom."_

_She rolls her eyes at that and sighs at your obvious stupidity before handing you the goat or whatever which is all wrapped up and ready to go._

"_Calliope! You already got it and here you are making me feel horrible!"_

"_I got it after I had to bug Feny to tell me if an annoying blonde American with startling perfect Setswana already came by," she says._

"_I knew you were jealous of my language skills," you respond. There is something about responding to Calliope's pissed off rant with a super calm attitude that delights you to no end._

_You pat her on the arm and then reach out to take some of the bags out of her hands before launching into the details of your discussion with Kefilwe, the college girl._

After that incident Callie stayed mad at you for the good part of an hour before she finally forget about being pissed and the two of you lost yourself in a conversation about extended families.

This is how it goes. One moment the two of you are giggling as you're huddled under the covers of your bed telling stories. The next, one of you is yelling at the other for something stupid, like forgetting the sunscreen. And you have to admit; you are as much at fault as Callie is.

You fight like you're siblings. Or lovers. Or, whatever.

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

This is your plan. Ignore, ignore, ignore. It works most of the time. Occasionally it bites you in the ass.

You are the first to admit that Arizona intrigued you from the start, mostly because she was clearly so annoyed by your person that you took notice. But then there was the Detroit night and her drunken comments. After the drinks started flowing almost everything she said was a come-on. You noticed that she stared at you throughout that night as if she wanted to jump your bones. You noticed that she did not look the same way at Teddy or Addison or any of the other women in that nightclub. You noticed that you noticed so much.

Arizona however, clearly does not remember much as she casually commented the other night that most of that evening is a wild blur.

You'd forget about it too except the way her eyes drilled into you, kinda set you on fire.

Since then you've gotten to know her. The two of you hurl yourselves into your room when the cold air starts to send goose bumps up your bare legs after your nightly ritual of getting ready for bed. She scoots onto the mattress with you sliding in right behind her. She burrows into the covers as your punch a pillow in order to get semi-comfortable. The bed is large enough for both of you but pretty much the better part of your sides are resting against each other.

And Arizona is funny. She tells you stories and she makes you howl with attempted quiet laughter late into the evening. The two of you have a lot in common and when you discover that you both secretly adore Alanis Morissette, she makes you sing angry songs right along next to her when the two of you dance your way down that dirt road on your way to meet Mark.

And then there are the fights. And to be honest there isn't a lot of laughter or teasing behind the fights, at least not from both of you at the same moment. Like for instance, Arizona actually changed seats the other day when you sat next to her at lunch all because you forgot the sunscreen. It's dramatic. And it's dumb.

But you, Callie, at least understand it. Well, at least sorta understand it. Hence, the ignoring. This is so not the time to get involved with anyone. Ten weeks from now the whole group of you will get your permanent assignments and off you'll go. You probably won't ever see her again unless you all decided to meet up on the weekends you all have off. Plus you aren't a relationship girl.

It's dumb. You're dumb. She's dumb. The whole damn thing is dumb. The two of you share a freakin bed, for christ's sakes. Kissing her, touching her, _whatevering_ her, so very dumb. Although half the time all you really want to do is see what she tastes like. So you fight. It's easier to not kiss her when you really want to just punch her out.

And she does the same damn thing. Over and over. So either she too is ignoring it or she's in such denial that she isn't even aware of why the two of you butt heads constantly. That would be so Arizona's style, to wonder why the two of you fight so much without getting the actual point. Arizona is a constant state of denial. It frightens you that you know this girl so well.

And then there is the nakedness factor. Arizona, like clock work, picks a fight with you moments after she sees you in a state of undress. Every single time. Yesterday it was when she leaned against the wall to tuck in the bed sheets. You were in mid shirt-change when she turned back around. You kinda grabbed your bare breasts as you turned away from her and slung your bra on. She mumbled an apology, you the same, and then literally four minutes later she rips into you about something to do with her toothpaste.

Somehow you know this won't end well.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

"Callie. Arizona. Can the two of you come up front please?"

You whip your blonde head in the direction of the speaker who motions with his hand for the two of you to follow him. You look across the table where Callie is standing and follow her in his direction.

You can hear Teddy ask Addison what the plan for tomorrow is but their voices mix in with the rest of the group as you and Callie make your way towards the leader. Ten minutes later you both return, Callie with a phone number on a piece of paper in her hand. When you get back to your group, you notice that the day is about to be called quits.

"So, what was that all about?" Teddy asks when you sit down at the table.

"Some project they need our help with by tomorrow. They were kinda vague," you say, reaching across for Addison's water bottle and taking a swig.

Callie continues. "Ian and Matt, the two volunteers who were placed in our village almost two years ago need our help assembling furniture, whatever that means. I guess we'll have to take a rain check on whatever we wanted to do tomorrow."

At that instant Mark Sloan swaggers towards the group.

"Alright ladies listen up. Day Off begins in exactly seven hours," he says.

He hands each of you a piece of paper that was clearly ripped out of a spiral notebook. You start to unfold yours when he continues.

"Meet at the location detailed below at exactly 0100 hours, that's one AM for those of you who don't know military time." He gives an exaggerated pause and stares in Addison's direction who huffs at the accusation.

"Admission is one bottle to share of something that has alcohol in it, got it?" he finishes.

You all stare back at him. You unfold your paper.

_Main Road. About halfway between meeting point- 0100 hours. Alcohol required._

_Oh, and Blue Eyes. Only come if you can handle breaking a few minor rules. _

You glance up at Mark who is smirking at you. You peer over Addison's shoulder to see if hers has the same thing. You huff and then look over at Callie who is shaking her head in Mark's direction.

"Why is mine the only one with a warning about rule breaking?" you ask.

The entire group looks at you and they don't really have to respond for you to get the point.

"Hey! I can be badass. Just watch me— oh." Right at this moment, your previous commitment hits you. "Man, Callie and I can't come. We have stuff to do."

"What stuff?" Mark inquires. The two of you explain again.

"Well go get started. You still have almost seven hours before we are meeting up."

You glance at Callie who shrugs and nods as if to say, let's go for it. You all head out and start to make your way towards your respected homes. When Teddy and Addison peel off, Addison shouts from down the road.

"Hey Sloan. Where exactly is _about halfway_?"

"Don't worry Red, you won't miss it," he shouts back.

You give Callie a wide-eyed look; your interest is officially peaked. She calls out to the Teddy and Addison. "Make sure you two walk up together!"

Callie is kinda the impulsive, would fling herself off a cliff into crazy water for a laugh, type of girl, but she still is super attentive to other people's safety. It kinda warms your heart.

Once you both veer off from Mark, the two of you stop by your house to grab some stuff. You swap your shorts for a pair of skinny jeans, slip your running shoes back on, and grab a jacket. Callie changes her t-shirt and opens her backpack where she throws in both your wallets and sunglasses.

"What else should we bring?" Callie asks.

"Ooh, the booze," you say, walking over to your bed and getting down on your hands and knees as she starts to laugh. You swipe your hand underneath before pulling out three bottles of this rum-ish deliciousness the two of you discovered on Market Day. Callie had insisted you stock up in case it was ever needed and _boom_, suddenly it is very much needed. You giggle back at her as you place all three bottles into the backpack.

The two of you then grab some fruit from the kitchen and leave a note for Tapiwa, telling her not to expect you tell tomorrow night. You think. You really have no idea what Sloan has planned.

"Well shall we go?" Callie asks.

You nod your head, curious about what the assignment will lead to.

It's four hours later and the two of you have less then two hours before you are suppose to meet the others in what you now are referring to as Fight Club.

"I'm telling you," Callie says, sprawled on her back holding the pack of tiny screws and nails as she riffles through, looking for a specific part. "We are going to get there and _wham_, Mark is gonna knock us out." She motions for you to slide the bottle of rum towards her. You take another swig and then hand it over

"Mark is not going to try and fight us," you say, trying to reason with drunk Calliope.

"He is," she says, nodding her head dramatically. "Why else would he call a secret, not to mention eerie, meeting in the middle of the night in the middle of Africa?"

"Maybe because we now currently live in the middle of Africa? Besides we could totally take him."

She nods at that because clearly you are right.

The two of you have already made it through one bottle of rum and you just cracked open the second. There is no way you were going to make it through this evening if you aren't intoxicated. That much you both discovered pretty early on. After you met up with Ian and Matt, the two of you were directed to the basement of the church. Inside were over 200 boxed school desks. Your task was to help assemble them before tomorrow night when they would be picked up and distributed to where they needed to go.

"Okay, I have 20 more nails and 20 more screws."Callie sings out her inventory from across the room from you. You pull the last completed desk that you've just finished into line with the others. You still have over 50 to go. "So that is enough for the next five desks. Right, five?" she clarifies, squinting at you in the low glow that barely illuminates the room.

You count on your own fingers and nod your head to her correct math.

"Okay. Here are the parts for the next five," you say, dragging a few cardboard boxes towards her and flopping down. "Maybe we should practice some moves just in case?"

"Mmkay," Callie says, following your jumbled train of thoughts surprisingly well. She drags a knife over the taped boxes and they spring open.

"Careful!" you shout, watching her as she almost loses a thumb. "We'll need your thumb if we plan to take out Sloan." You giggle at your words, the rum so very apparent in your voice.

"Very true," she slurs back to you. "Okay, I think we should devise a strategy to get these done faster."

You nod your head and bite your bottom lip in concentration as you try to come up with something. And then it hits you.

"Well clearly you are better at the screwing!" you shout, motioning with your hands over all the already done desks in order to make your point.

"This is true. I do screw really well," Callie says.

The two of you both lock eyes at the same instant and burst into deep laughter. Callie tilts her head back and the sound coming out fills the whole room. You try to be serious for one second as another thought come to you.

"My screwing needs help."

You don't say anything else, but the silence almost says it for you. Again you catch her gaze, almost as if you did just ask her to help you screw better and the awkwardness only makes you both laugh harder. Callie is officially wiping tears from her eyes as she tries to speak.

"You are really good at nailing though. I mean no one nails as well as you."

This only gets better. The sexual innuendos are so fierce and your drunken brain takes in the fact that you suddenly want to kiss Calliope Torres.

"I only nail with the best," you say, reaching over your shoulder and actually patting yourself on the back. "Okay." You try to get serious. "So you'll screw and I'll nail. It'll be like team assembly-line style."

Callie claps her hands together once, sits up on her knees and pulls the closest box towards her.

"On it," she shouts.

The next hour the two of you only pause your nailing and screwing in order to laugh or gulp more rum.

"I'm totally out nailing your screwing!" You pump your fist in the air causing you to lose pace.

"Arizona! I can't screw any faster." Callie gives an exasperated sigh before she bursts into more laughter.

"You can do it," you chant. "I have faith in your screwing."

This is so not helping but finally the two of you nail and screw that last damn desk. Both of you stand, stretch your backs out, miss on a high-five and settle for a bear hug. You curse yourself for noticing how good her hair smells.

"Umm. Your hair smells super good."

You pull back, eyes super wide when you realize you actually mumbled that out loud. And not only did you say it but you said it in that post-orgasm blissed out tone that allows you to get away with saying just about anything. Except you didn't just have an orgasm so basically you won't get away with shit.

She too pulls back and raises her eyebrows at you, her face literally half a foot from your own.

"You're drunk. And you tend to say things along those lines when you're drunk," Callie concludes.

This is true. You so know this is true. Yet, you still find yourself saying more. "So, what else can I get away with saying if I'm as intoxicated as you think?" Your tone is suggestive and you lean into her so that half your words kinda linger in hot breaths on her neck.

Callie places her hands on your hips. Her fingers then disappearing under the material of your thin t-shirt so that she makes contact with your bare skin. "Arizona."

Her voice is low. Like really low.

"Um hm." Right now you don't really care how drunk you both are. You don't even care how bad of an idea this all is. And you really don't care about the fact that you aren't even sure if Callie here is gay. Right now you really would rather she just kiss you. With tongue.

She leans in. You lean in. It's all very slow. Very dramatic. And then she whispers into your ear.

"You need to pull your shit together if we are going to have to take on Mark in less then—" She removes one hand to check her watch. "—30 minutes."

Beat. Pause.

"Mean," you say, huff at the loss of contact in which she only laughs as a reply.

Callie pulls completely back and grabs your rum bottle and the backpack. She slings the pack onto her shoulders, takes a gulp, hands the bottle to you and motions for you to lock the basement behind her.

The two of you drop the keys off at Ian's and head for the main road you are to meet the others on. Never once do you guess that her heart is beating as wildly as your own.

Halfway along the deserted road the two of you start belting out _Jagged Little Pill_ while Callie grips her pepper spray like it's a lifeline and you light up a cigarette. You pass it to her as her eyes shoot up. She takes a pause in her song to tell you how incredibly dumb smoking is. You shrug. Callie takes it from your fingers and has a drag before returning it. You laugh, she carries on with her lyrics. Beside your voices, only the red light from your cigarette indicates your existence.

Oh and the occasional spray of poison when some rodent moves in the brush and scares the shit out of Calliope.

* * *

**Sorry it took so long to post. I forgot how long of chapters I wrote! Let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

_-CALLIE POV-_

"What the hell?" You stop short and swing your flashlight up in attempts to illuminate whatever it is that is down the road from you and Arizona. Arizona is still in mid song but when she sees your light go out in front of you she cuts it short.

"What is that?" Arizona asks, peering through the midnight dark to try and make out what the giant shape that looms over what you both are assuming to be Mark Sloan. However, the shadows are fierce and you both come up with nothing.

You swipe your hand in front of the beam of light. You do this a few times.

Arizona pivots towards you and watches as you continue. "You sending out an S.O.S. over there?" she inquires, giggling into her fist.

"I saw it on the Discovery Channel once," you explain. But before you can say more, another light beam is sent your way, coming in little patterns just like the ones you sent. "Hm, I guess he saw that episode too." The two of you continue down that road.

"But what did you say?" Arizona asks, dropping her cigarette and steping on the ember as she walks next to you. "What did he say?"

You have no idea.

The two of you walk along as if you are stalking your prey. Arizona whispers to you as you both get even closer. "If he jumps you, I got your back."

This should be funny. This should be hilarious. But right now she is still tipsy and you are still a little jumpy over the critter noises and so you nod in complete seriousness. Shit just got real.

"Hey, you made it!" Mark's voice looms out of the darkness as you approach. You catch him checking his watch. "Good, you're early. The others should be here soon." He turns in the opposite direction to peer down the road to see if he can spot Addison or Teddy.

"I feel like we're on a mission," you whisper to Arizona as the two of you finally walk up next to Mark.

"I know, right."

Arizona then turns to Mark, asking the obvious question. "What is this?" She trails her hand along an old piece of something that reaches up into the dark above all your heads. There is a screen-looking thing at the top and a long wire with a strip of some type of rubber that lies on the ground next to it.

"Just you wait Blue Eyes," Mark goads.

You miss Arizona's dramatic eye roll because at that exact moment you hear the first stanza of an old _Queen_ song float through the air. You nudge Arizona and nod in the direction of a small beam of light heading your way.

The girls stop singing as they approach. "Is that your truck, Sloan?" Addison's voice pierces the silence as they appear in front of you.

"What is it with you girls and singing?" Mark asks, shaking his head in confusion which causes both Teddy and Addison to look confused, and you and Arizona to crack up. "And yes, truck, mine. At least for the night," he finishes, sending a wink in the redhead's direction.

You shoot your eyes up at him, Teddy shakes her head and Arizona lets out a little gasp as she asks, "Please tell me you did not steal a car, Mark?"

You head over to the truck that is hidden a little off the road in the direction of Addison and Teddy's approach.

"Callie! Don't touch it!" Arizona shouts at you.

You giggle, running your hands along it.

"I didn't steal it. I borrowed it," Mark explains.

"Hm, sure." Teddy walks over with you and peers inside the window.

Arizona pipes up again. "We signed like a dozen agreements that we wouldn't operate a moving vehicle while here! It was one of the most concrete rules that they gave us."

You nod your head at that but at the same time take in Mark's stare down with your roommate.

"Do you still have your Day Off instructions?" he asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Arizona nods, falls for it, and starts to pull the slip of paper from her back pocket. She's unfolding the paper when she gets it and narrows her eyes back at him.

"You might want to re-read that last little line I put in there for you," Mark says, shooting her a look. His voice is mocking her but still the laughter in his eyes makes it not so unkind. Then he continues, "Need I remind you that your exact words earlier were, I can be a badass-"

"She's fine!" Addison interrupts. She pats Arizona on the shoulder before walking up to the hunk of metal in the middle of the road. "So what's this about? Teddy and I almost backed out last minute when she brought up her fear of you murdering all of us out here in the dead of night."

"Oh my god, we so thought the same thing!" Arizona shouts, laughing at poor Mark's offended look.

You try to be nice. "In all fairness Mark, we more thought you'd punch us out Fight Club style."

You all crack up at that.

"Okay. First things first," Mark shouts, stopping the conversation from turning in that direction. "Booze," he finishes, holding his arms out for the admission fee.

"We don't even know what we're paying for!" Teddy grumbles, but then both she and Addison reach into their backpacks and hand over two random bottles.

You pull your own pack out as Mark sets the bottles down next to a crate of his that is next to the road. You hand over the still full rum bottle from your pack and when Mark looks from you to Arizona for a second bottle, Arizona sighs and hands him the half-gone bottle still in her hands.

"We started a little early," you say, daring Mark to object. He only laughs.

"Alright." Mark motions for you all to gather around. "Three hours from here is the Bathoen Dam. Plan is to drive there, camp out for the evening, spend all day doing whatever we want. And by whatever we want, I mean massive sleepover." He says the last part with dirty dripping out of his tone.

Beside for Mark's fantasy ending the idea sends a small smile onto your lips because this sounds fun. This sounds like a bona fide adventure.

"Now," he continues, "winner gets to pick who has to do the driving. Everyone else gets to drink and party it up on the way to the lake slash dam."

"Winner?" Addison interrupts him, competition already etched on her features.

"Winner," Mark repeats and at that moment he presses something in his hand and the entire sky illuminates. You all gasp for a second as your eyes adjust to the light.

Arizona is the first to catch on. "Oh my god, is that what I think it is? It so is! Where the hell did you find an old speed reader?"

You take in the flashing zero from above your head that appears on the monitor or screen or whatever.

Mark explains as he starts to uncoil the wire with the rubber pad. He heads down the road in the direction Teddy and Addison came from but his voice rings out his explanation. "I found it in this abandoned garage at the training facility. Along with the truck. Didn't take much to get both working."

You roll your eyes but at the same time your blood starts pumping at the opportunity to trash talk Mark all the way to Loser Ville.

"So the rubber pad here logs your speed. And it won't pick up anything going slower than 10 mph. I checked it with the truck as obviously these things are designed to pick up car speeds. So you girls better be able to run, and run fast!" Mark explains.

Mark's idea dawns on all of you as you take in the task. This is a non-glorified, full out, race. You'll have to run fast to prove your worth.

Plus there are prizes. You, Calliope Torres, love prizes.

Game. So. Freakin. On.

Teddy drifts over to the crate which you can now see is full of old bottles of something that looks like homemade vodka. She uncaps a bottle and takes a gulp, wincing for a brief moment.

"Can I just say—" she pauses for dramatic effect, "All State Track, baby!" Teddy jumps up, throwing her hands in the air and then continues. "You all are going so far down!"

And with those words the competition is sparked.

You laugh when you notice that Arizona is already stretching her limbs over on the side of the road. She pauses in-between to take sips of her half drunken bottle of rum that she somehow snagged back from the collection.

"Track? You got nothing on me Teddy!" Addison shouts, taking her own swig from the bottle in-between Teddy's hands. "You already told me that you ran long-distance. This is about speed. And me and speed, we go way back."

"What, with your high school soccer?" You say it, laugh when Addison looks shocked that you remembered that detail from her past. "I ran the Miami marathon two weeks before I shipped out for Detroit. Two weeks!" you shout, smirking as you imagine the others eating your dust.

"Again, long-distance!" Arizona sings out, insulting you and Teddy both as she sits on the ground and stretches out her legs. The blonde does not stop there. "I was raised by a Marine. A real life badass Marine. I was taught to run hard and run fast, so you only have to run once-"

You all laugh because drunk Arizona makes absolutely no sense.

Mark reappears, stepping into the circle of trash talk after laying out the wire. "You two-" he points at you and Arizona, "are drunk, so you'll go down easy. Besides, I run _every day_ baby."

Arizona laughs especially hard at that. "Just flash Sloan a glimpse of your panties and the boy is a goner." Arizona stands and stretches her neck and does a little mock jog in place to get her blood pumping.

"Funny, Robbins," Sloan shoots back, scowling at Arizona's insult. "I'm gonna go drive the truck down a ways, that'll be the starting point. Then a few yards in front of that you'll hit the reader, make sure you run directly across it. Then your speed will flash on the monitor. _If_ you hit 10 or faster. Otherwise, you get nothing," Mark explains.

He does exactly that and once he drops the car a little bit down the road, he jogs back to the group.

"So how many tries do we get?" Addison asks as she bites her lip already scouting out a strategy.

You all look towards Mark who seems to invent rules for a living. "Each round the lowest speed will be pulled out. We'll go until the two fastest are the only ones left. And when Callie and Arizona here each clock a zero on the first attempt, both are done. Deal?"

You and Arizona both heckle at Mark for that until finally all of you are stretched and ready. Everyone jogs down the road to the starting point. You pull your jacket off your arms and hike your jeans up your legs to give yourself more freedom. Arizona does the same and tightens her sneakers for added effect. Addison actually strips off her t-shirt and stands there in her cutoffs and sports bra. Teddy is actually wearing what looks like a freakin jogging suit. This bitch came prepared. You eyeball her as your real competition.

You need a plan. This is what you, Callie Torres, know. When you run as a steady long-distance pace on the treadmill you clock a constant 7 mph. 10 or more is going to require a hardcore sprint. You don't doubt your abilities in the least.

Mark pulls a die out of his pocket and motions for you to shine your flashlight in his direction. "Choose a number. If yours shows up on the dice, you run first. In?"

You all vocalize your agreement.

"Three," Arizona shouts.

"Five." Addison.

"One." You.

"Six." Teddy.

Mark settles on four.

He tosses the die and you follow it to the ground with your light. Of course it lands on a two. You all laugh and he squats down to pick it up. He rolls it again and this time it lands on a six.

You pump your hand in victory, glad you don't have to go first. This way you can gauge just how fast a person will have to haul to come up with a decent speed.

Teddy huffs for a second but then recovers as she sends you all a confident smirk.

"Alright, back up. I need me some room." She digs in the dirt with her sneaker as you all comply. She then drops her body into a classic track stance, one leg stretched out behind the other, her front knee bent. Her fingertips brush the ground.

Mark pulls out, you so are not making this shit up, a buzzer. A bona fide buzzer to what looks like a piece of a board game. He gives you all a little preview of what it sounds like before asking Teddy if she's ready.

She nods her head, raises her body up a little bit, game face on.

"On your mark. Get set-" The buzzer sounds and Teddy takes off sending a little wave of dust towards the rest of you who are huddled around the truck. She tears down the dirt road away from the group and you can tell she's gathering speed. She obviously hits her stride right as her feet stomp over the rubber mat. She doesn't slow but continues to run through it.

All of you stare at the projector and it blinks its zero twice before clocking a 13 mph. Teddy slows to a jog as she sees her score.

"Boom! In your face!" she shouts, spinning around towards you all and pointing both her index fingers at the group.

You have to admit. You, impressed.

Mark lets out a low whistle and the rest of you give her the slow clap.

"Have to say, I'm not surprised," Mark shouts, loud enough for Teddy to hear from down the road. She gives a slight bow in return and then removes herself to the crate and the rest of you return to the die.

Mark tosses it again and this time it lands on a three. You forget who has the three but Mark immediately turns to Arizona. "You ready there, doll?"

She grumbles about the pet name but then swings her arms in front of her in a wide circle and then tilts her neck to each side with a small crack. Girl is not messing around.

She approaches the dirt line that Mark edged out with his toe before Teddy went. She lowers herself into a stance, nowhere as dramatic as Teddy's. "Be prepared to be blown away." Her voice drips confidence and you hide a laugh as Mark begins the countdown.

The buzzer sounds and Arizona takes off. Another wave of dust lands in your face. She hurls towards the marker and you try to tell if she's running faster or slower than Teddy. You can't tell but she pumps her arms really fast as her feet hit the rubber and like Teddy she doesn't slow until she is positive she hit her mark.

The screen flashes again and you hope for her sake something was picked up because a zero would be embarrassing.

14 mph.

No. Freakin. Way.

"Hehe!" Arizona launches herself into what you can only guess is her own personal victory dance. Because she's safe for this round and she knows it. "Like I said! Daughter of a Marine!"

She joins Teddy as Mark shakes his head in obvious surprise. Addison is strangely silent like she knows things just got a lot more hardcore.

The die lands on a five. Addison is up.

She silently moves to the starting line. You can't help but goad your friend. "What, no trash talking Addie?"

She bends down in the dirt as if she has no intention of responding to you but then turns her head in your direction. "Winners don't need trash talking."

Your eyes get wide at that and Teddy and Arizona's collective _oooh_ can be heard over the crickets.

Mark counts down and then Addison is off. You can tell instantly she is not hauling as fast as Teddy or Arizona. But then again your gauge wasn't accurate with Arizona so really it's all fair game.

She is nearing the rubber mat when she slides slightly on the loose dirt but she regains her footing, picks up her speed, and crosses it. Addison stops abruptly and you all look in the same direction. It flashes twice like always and then an 11 is displayed.

"Damnit!" Addison shouts her defeat as she is now in the loser bracket. Teddy squeals out a victory shout as she is now out of danger.

Mark starts teasing her as if she is already the ultimate loser. You try to be a friendly competitor. "That was good Addie. Really, it was."

She sends you a death glare that you can read through the dark and from down the road.

Arizona and Teddy are now sitting on the crate of booze; each taking victory gulps of alcohol. Addison goes to sit next to them.

"You ready, Cal?" Marks asks, you nod, and again he drops the die.

It lands twice on numbers already called and then, of course, it lands on yours.

"Cal is up!" he shouts so the others know what's what.

Arizona shouts some encouragement down the road from you. She can because she's in the lead.

You go through the process that everyone else has gone through. And just before the buzzer sounds, your heart rate calms and everything goes super focused. You feel like you feel before a long race. Everything disappears. It is just you, the road, and your speed.

You hear the sound signaling your start. And you're off. You don't even look at the road. You know where the rubber mat is and you aim for it automatically. All you really have to concentrate on is going faster. You push your legs to their limits and you feel the burn crawl up your thighs. Faster. Faster. Faster.

You know you are hauling ass. Your lungs feel it and then you feel the slight unevenness of the reader. You run through it and keep going even as you know your score flashes for the others.

"Damn." One of the girls breathes it out as you sail past them. Only then do you stop, turn and look up.

15 mph.

You are a good sport so you don't gloat. At least not much. You strut over to the girls and grab the rum bottle out of Arizona's hands. You take a gulp and then nonchalantly sit down next to Addison.

Everyone cracks up as your smugness. You have to laugh too.

And then the name calling starts. Because if this is Fight Club then it just turned into a girls only fight. You have to stick together. Teddy jogs towards Mark and takes the buzzer out of his hands as he gets ready. She stands behind him.

"Poor Mark. He is about to be whipped by a bunch of girls." Arizona.

"That pretty face is about to land in the dirt." Addison.

"It's sad, really. Game so freakin over." You.

Mark tells you all to pipe down as he too lowers himself into a runner's stance.

Teddy counts down and hits the buzzer. He starts running. And he's going fast. Maybe as fast as you were. And then the rest of it happens really fast too. One moment he is flying along and the next his foot hits the corner of the mat. He's too far to the left. You watch, jaw dropped, as his arms try to correct himself but his foot ends up wedged under the rubber and then, then he goes down.

Silence.

"Oh my god. He's dead," Arizona whispers, tucking her face into your shoulder blades.

More silence but then finally he lifts his head and crawls to his feet. You peak a glance at the reader. It is still blinking a zero.

"Mother fucker," Mark breathes out.

And he's fine. The silence breaks and you all about die in laughter.

"Oh my god. That was tragic!" Teddy shouts, jogging to him, her head thrown back as huge gulps of laughter tumble out of her mouth. She helps pick him up and his ego is so so bruised.

"Oh my god. Oh my god." Arizona is having a hard time breathing right about now. You can feel her laughing, her face still planted against your back. Your own tears of laughter are dripping onto your neck.

"When I said face meets dirt, I didn't mean it literally!" Addison actually falls off the crate because she is laughing so hard.

"Whatever. The dirt tripped me!" Mark shouts, demanding respect and sympathy but none of you give it to him. Serves him right, so very much.

It takes almost ten minutes for you all to calm down. And just as the laughter seems to ebb, someone remembers the image of Mark flying through the air and landing on his face. The laughter starts right back up.

He exaggerates his limp as he makes his way towards you all. Teddy is trying to keep a straight face as she helps him. He pulls up his jeans and there is a huge red area but only a tiny cut that barely even bleeds.

Addison hands him a bottle of booze and pats him on the back. He grabs his buzzer back as he continues to sulk.

"Alright, shall we continue?" you ask. You want to keep going because you? You are still burning to win this thing.

Everyone verbally agrees, except for Mark who remains silent. The four of you head back to the truck. Teddy announces that you all should run in the order of lowest speed to fastest. That means Addison, Teddy, Arizona, you.

This time Addison keeps her score and Teddy hits a 14. Arizona drops to a 13 and you also drop to a 13.

Addison joins Mark on the loser box and the rest of you take a moment to catch your breath.

Again you go with slowest to fastest. You and Arizona tied so you look at her first. "After you darling," you tease.

She glares at your kindness, not trusting it. She heads for the start line and you can't help but tease her again. "I hope those smoker lungs of yours hold up there."

"Oh, Calliope. You have no idea what kind of activities these lungs can endure," Arizona says, smirking. "And I'm guessing all that poison you wasted on the lizards is starting to make its way into your own lungs right about now," she finishes.

Teddy glances at both of you confidently trash talking as only friends can.

"And just for that, I'm going to tear your high score off the board, Jeremiah," Arizona shouts.

You laugh because there is no board, and because the girl just called you a bullfrog. You notice Teddy's look of confusion and it strikes you suddenly that you and Arizona have inside jokes. That thought hits you and another right behind it. Arizona's competitiveness is hot. Like, really hot.

Maybe it's still the effects of her apparent rum addiction or maybe it's from all the endorphins flooding both your bodies. Or quite possibly Arizona is right and you inhaled some of your beloved mace. Because at that moment Arizona pulls her own t-shirt off her body so that she mimics Addison's get-up of jeans and a sports bra.

You try not to gulp too loudly.

Granted the two of you live together. But Arizona is a speedy stripper. The girl can undress and redress before you've managed to undo your belt. You've caught glimpses of her body before, briefly. A bare back here, a long smooth leg there. But overall it's Arizona who reacts to nakedness. It's her that picks fights as soon as she sees any part of you that is normally clothed. You are an adult. You don't go stupid over bare skin.

But fuck. This skin. Her skin. It's sweaty and it kinda gleams in the moonlight.

_Moonlight? Seriously? Get a fucking grip, Callie. _

Arizona has now turned back around and is facing the starting line. You hope your face had remained passive and not like you got distracted by her clavicle.

The buzzer sounds and Arizona takes off. Arizona should be slowing down with each round. You all should be getting tired or drunk or both. But you can literally see her speed increase as she tears down the road. She hits her mark and when a 14 flashes she should be proud but instead she stomps her foot, engulfing herself in a cloud of dust.

And she's right. All of you left in the game have the skills to run faster than that.

"Damnit. Damnit. Damnit," she curses, walking over to Addison and Mark and you hear Addison tell her that she's freakin out a little bit.

"Bite me," Arizona's retort comes hurling through the dark.

You have to laugh at that and then you get serious because you are up.

Everything happens the same as before. You are mid stride, you know you should hit the reader any second and that's when her voice hits you.

"Don't trip!" Arizona shouts.

You don't. But when you look up at your speed it reads a 14 too which means if Teddy outruns you, she's the ultimate champion since both you and Arizona will be dropped.

"Arizona Robbins!" you shout, turning on her as she stands up, smile on her face.

"Yes?"

"Too far," you growl.

Arizona just shrugs, but Mark agrees with you that taunting while someone is mid-run, low blow.

"You fight dirty," he tells her as you make your way to the group. Teddy is still down by the truck but she jogs back in order to give Addison the buzzer for her own run.

You finally get next to Arizona who actually hops up so she is standing on the crate. Now, she's eye-level with you, if not taller.

"What are you going to do about it?" she asks, planting her tiny fists on her bare hips and smirking at you.

You start to speak but then you actually watch her eyes go from mocking yours to trailing down to your lips. She actually bites the corner of her own bottom lip for a brief second before returning to look in your eyes.

You raise your eyebrows at that. She notices and does that head-tilt thing that kinda drives you crazy.

There is this bit of silence in which the others glance from you to Arizona. You to Arizona and back again. Then Teddy slaps the buzzer in Addison's hands and returns to the truck.

You all turn to watch Teddy. She gets ready and then she runs. She runs hard. You can't tell which way this is all going to go. But then Teddy clocks a 12.

You cheer. Mark and Addison yell out that she did good. They clap her on the back as she nears the group. Arizona is strangely silent. She glares at Teddy as Teddy returns it with this fake little smile. You watch Arizona roll her eyes.

It's almost like Arizona is silently accusing Teddy of running slower on purpose. Almost. Couldn't be. Nobody is _that_ nice. But then you see Teddy shoot a wink in Arizona's direction and now you are not so sure.

"You ready for your final chapter there Blue Eyes."

Arizona's head snaps in your direction as you use the pet name Sloan uses on her. You know she hates it. She launches herself off her crate and starts to follow you back to the truck. Teddy grabs the buzzer back from Addison and follows a few paces behind her.

"Calliope, you are going to regret the day you took me on," Arizona says.

You walk with your back to her but then you turn around and keep walking backwards so that you are facing her. The gap between the two of you gets closer as you slow down, she speeds up, whatever.

"You should know this about me already, Arizona," you start, grabbing the t-shirt that clads your torso. You pull it over your head and use it to wipe the sweat off your chest. "I never regret anything."

You do not miss how her eyes linger over your chest. Because you, are so not wearing a sports bra. Actually it's kinda the worst bra to be sprinting in. It supports but barely. You are a tease. You know this. But you and Arizona are on a whole other level right now. Not because either of you are doing much but because you have never been this turned on by anyone.

You're into girls. You've dated a few casually. You've slept with a few casually too. You know you mentioned that, kinda, in the taxi when you all went out in Detroit but you aren't certain if Arizona picked up on it.

Besides. You can't do anything about it. That would be stupid. Plus you don't do relationships. You wonder for a moment why it feels like lately you've had to remind yourself about that more often.

Part of you wants to hold this girl and sing her songs for your forever. The other part of you wants to fuck her up against a tree.

You push those thoughts from your brain as you hear Mark mumble to Addison that you and your bare-ish chest are, well, bringing out the big guns.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

You're a goner. Gone—er.

Callie and her body just totally won this competition. Done and done. F.

You barely know this girl.

That's not true. You know a lot about her. You've heard about her family and her friends. Her dreams and her low points in life. But still, it hasn't been all that long.

But what you really know about her is that Callie is a tease. World class. It annoyed the crap out of you that day you saw her on the shuttle. But when it's directed at you, well, you kinda love it.

No wonder those idiots were so game to help her with her bags.

A hundred thoughts race through your brain as you follow her back to the truck. More trash talking infers but you aren't registering what either of you says. Your mind flashes over to that time in the taxi on your way to the nightclub.

_Most of the time. _

That had been her answer to Mark's straight question. To you, most of the time means she accidentally tongued a girl her freshman year of college in the dormitory, once. Or she and her girl-cousin touched themselves in front of each other for three seconds when they were nine.

Most of the time it does not mean a girl actively makes a habit of dating or even bedding women. It doesn't even necessarily mean a woman identifies as bisexual. Callie says a lot of flippant things. You know this about her. And most of the time the flippant shit she says is just to get a rise out of Mark. You mind flashes back to earlier in the evening when she grazed her fingernails along your hipbones. That was a tease. That was a response to your obvious lust in that one moment.

In the past when you've flirted with straight girls they either play along for a brief moment or they ran off to their group of friends to tell them that a girl just totally came on to them.

Callie's flirting has not been brief. And she so hasn't run off to giggle with Addison. And in all seriousness, most straight girls would have baulked at the idea of sharing a bed with a gay girl. Like you'd jump them in the middle of the night without their consent. Callie? Callie kinda snuggles with you in the dead of night.

You are fucking confused.

The two of you approach the starting line. You shoot her previous words back to her. "After you darling."

You gesture to the road with your left hand, the other planted on your hip, right where your bare stomach meets jean. Callie traces her eyes over the line your low-rise jeans make on your skin. Interesting. Another tally mark goes on the side of Callie being actually interested in chicks.

"You sure?" Callie asks, finding your eyes again.

"Always."

You back up to give her some room and Teddy stands next to you, buzzer in hand. She nudges you in the ribs and when you look at her she questions you with her eyes.

You mouth a silent, _what? _As if you don't know what she's talking about.

She motions between you and Callie.

Mark starts to say something to Callie from down the road and you whisper to Teddy.

"It's nothing. Besides she's straight," you say.

"Not what I heard from Addie," Teddy responds.

Your eyes bug out at that. "What, you and Addie talked about us?"

"I asked how she met Callie and she launched into some story about a boat. Anyways, it ended with some comment about how Callie was dating some chick casually at that time."

"And?" you inquire.

"Addie said she asked Callie once how girl sex was."

"And?"

"Something about, never try it. You'll never go back to men," Teddy finishes

You glance over at Callie who is still hollering at Mark.

"Hm. That's promising," you say.

"Fuck, Arizona. You are so blind. The girl is practically imagining your fingers down her jeans. Besides nobody fights that much unless they are in love or want to fuck." Teddy says it and then looks at you with this look, this challenging, eyebrow raised look.

You punch Teddy on the shoulder for that but not before a shiver goes straight to your thighs.

"Alright, Cal. You ready?" Teddy says it loud enough so everyone can hear.

"I'm ready. You ready, Arizona?" Callie glances over her shoulder at you. You nod your head, still distracted by Teddy's words.

Teddy counts down, hits the buzzer, and off Callie goes. You barely watch her run but then shift your head to the board when it flashes a 15. Callie, like always, doesn't cheer for herself. But you can see in her eyes that she is practically doing cartwheels in the African dirt.

You shake all thoughts of her away and prepare yourself.

And then you're running. Hard. Harder than you've run before. Images of Callie gripping your bare thighs only makes you sprint harder. You stomp the rubber and stop short. The screen flashes a freakin 16.

"In your face!" you shout, running towards the group and Callie is actually clapping her hands with the rest of them. You can hear their cheering and hoots of impressive-ness. You find yourself not stopping once you get to the group. You do not reach out your hand to congratulate Calliope on a good game. Instead, and this is really weird, you launch yourself into her arms.

She laughs at that and then kinda spins you in a circle. "Kinda amazing." She breathes it out so only you can hear. You slide down her body as she deposits you back on the road and you almost moan at the contact your bare stomachs make with each other.

When she finally sets you down, your arms slip from off her shoulders but her own are still clasped around your waist. If you were alone, you'd say screw it, and kiss her.

But you aren't alone and the impressive cheers have now faded into a Mark Sloan whistle. You keep your eyes trained on Callie's for another moment. You raise your eyebrows just slightly as if asking her, if this is something she is really into or if this is just part of her flirty personality. She nods her head ever so slightly and a small smile appears on her face. Your silent conversation ends as Mark hollers out.

"Alright Arizona. Claim your prize."

Callie's arms slip off your body and you just can't tear your eyes off from hers. You pull your head back slightly so you aren't about to shout directly into her face but you don't turn around.

"Mark's driving!" you shout.

Callie tilts her head back and her throaty laughter washes over you. You can hear Mark complaining behind you and the other girls laughing. You finally turn around as Mark launches into a list about all the hard work he's done to even set up tonight and how he should not have to be the driver.

You pick up your rum bottle and take a long sip. You clink your bottle against Addison's and then Teddy's before turning your attention to Mark who is still in mid rant.

"Mark," you start.

He stops talking but has a girly pout still on his face.

"Suck it."

* * *

**Whew. Long chapter. Thanks for continuing to read and comment!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who is taking the time to read! The updates have been less often then I hoped. So thanks for staying invested. To those who have asked, I blocked the story from view on LJ as I update it here. Once the story is completly updated here, I will replace the non-edited versions on LJ with the edited versions from FF. Then it will be made public again. Thanks for understanding. And thanks for being so involved with the story that impatience is had! :) Enjoy the drunk/nakedness below.**

* * *

_[drunk] ARIZONA POV_

"No, I refuse." You shake your head sharply to communicate your negative response.

"Arizona," Addison says, rolling her eyes which you can't see in the dark but you can practically hear in the silence that follows her saying your name. "Don't be a fucking baby."

Teddy chokes slightly on her swallow of booze. But you, Arizona Robbins, will not back down. You refuse to back down from this.

"No. I won't," you half shout. "You all play. I'll sit here and listen politely or maybe take a nap but I will not regress ten years and play that stupid game."

The truck bucks as it hits some uneven ground and all four of you bounce from your positions in the bed of the truck. Mark has the window between the cab and the truck-bed open so he can pretend to be part of the conversation. However, after thirty minutes of _what?_ and _what did she say?_ you all got damn annoyed and just started ignoring him.

Mark has a ton of, you have no idea what, stashed in the back. The four of you lounge on top of the crap, tents maybe, as you huddle near each other. Teddy and Addison each have their own bottle of whatever they're drinking and you and Callie continue to share a bottle of your own. The truck hits another patch and again all of you rearrange your limbs.

"Maybe she's too embarrassed to say she doesn't know how to play." Teddy says it only to irritate you. Besides everyone and their mother knows how to play Ten Fingers.

"For your information I invented that game," you claim, wiggling all ten digits in front of your face. You're drunk. Everyone's drunk. Hence, everyone else and their total commitment to playing a game that was only cool in middle school. "Plus, that game gets me in trouble." Everyone kinda nods at that since it's a, been there done that, kinda situation.

And then Callie speaks. "That's okay." She starts off by saying it all kind and smiley. You narrow your eyes at her. "She doesn't want to play, she doesn't have to play."

Suspicious. Not. Buying. It.

"Besides I wouldn't want to play either if I was such a tight ass," the brunette finishes.

"Callie!" You smack her as hard as you can on the shoulder. Smack is a nice word for it. In actuality you pull back your fist and slug the heck out of her arm. You don't know why but you tend to get violent when you're drunk. And flirty. But that one is easier to embrace. Aggressiveness and teasing don't always go so well together. You usually try extra hard to just settle on the sexy flirty you and not the, watch your mouth or I'll bitch-slap your face, you.

Again. Calliope Torres confuses you the fuck out.

"I am not a tight ass." You say it, insist on it, cross your weapon hands in front of you.

Callie pours a mouthful of rum down her own throat before looking at you with raised eyebrows. You know that look so you jump on the conversation before she can even bring it up.

"So what! I like the bed to be made every morning! And you _missy_ do not just sleep under the covers like a normal person. Half the time I have to pull the sheets out of the crack between the wall and the bed. Besides, it's not like I make _you_ do it."

You try to mumble a, _like I'd even let you_, silently to yourself. But did you mention? You and drunk equals loud.

Flirty. Violent. Loud

Yep, that about covers it.

Oh, and sometimes you get really emotional. Like cry at a cat commercial emotional.

Even lost in your drunken thoughts you don't miss the look that passes between Teddy and Addison at the mention of your bed. _Whatever_. You can't help it if Callie's original host family didn't want her and she ended up crashing in on yours.

In your drunken state you forget about the fact that someone died in Callie's original host family and that's why she was reassigned. Right now you are the saint who opened your willing arms and allowed her to live with you. Key word, allowed. She is the ungrateful bitch who just called you a tight ass. Besides, you rather not _play_ ten figures. Instead you would rather _show_ Calliope just what your ten fingers are really capable of but you figure that would be rude what with Addison and Teddy here staring at you.

And now you've missed something else Callie has said because, well, the idea of fingers and Calliope? Distracting.

So when you finally force the image of Callie all breathless and begging and head thrown back because of your magic fingers, out of your head, you come to realize that all three of the girls are now laughing at you. Kinda hard. You huff back at them. You just out-ran their asses and now they have the audacity to laugh at you! And it probably had something to do with your rather impressive bed-making skills! Marine tight, bounce a corner, bed-making skills! And you and your bed-making skills? Let's just say your protect the things you love.

"Fine. Whatever! Shut it."

And then Teddy and Addison actually do some dumb high-five thing as they all kinda cheer at you relenting.

"How are we suppose to even see everyone's finger count?" you ask. The whole point of the game is to be able to mock people for losing or not losing a finger.

Instantly Callie flips her thumb over the power button on her flashlight. She nestles it in-between a few heavy canvas bags so that it shines and illuminates your tight circle. She smiles at her own cleverness. You hope she's drunk too because flashlight skills, kinda lame.

Everyone else already has their ten fingers up and in front of them so you reluctantly hold your own up too and then Addison decides she is going to start.

"Never have I ever," she starts as you all burst into laughter because you all know how to play the game, but being able to remember the actual wording is freakin hilarious. Addison smiles and then continues, "ordered pancakes at a restaurant."

And then you all really crack up because at your odd twenty-year-old ages, pancakes was not the subject you thought Addison would bring up. Your laughter dies down as you, Teddy, and Callie all tick a finger down.

Teddy is sitting on Addison's left so she goes next. "Never have I ever," she pauses like she's considering Addison's tame subject area, "seen a Star Wars movie."

You start to giggle at that but Addison interrupts your laugh. "What? Are you kidding me, Teddy?"

It's a fair question. But Addison says it like it's a personal affront to her and her honor. You and Callie exchanged glances as Addison goes there. Like, really goes there. "I mean it's a little dorky but come on! It's like the best trilogy of all time. Star Wars is like an identity. A way of life. A force not to be reckoned with!"

Your listening skills trail off as she rants on about it and Callie leans over and whispers at you.

"Did she really just say, Star Wars is an identity?"

You shudder as her hot breath lands on your neck, but you instinctively lean towards her and your thigh shifts so that your legs touch and you wiggle your body to find a comfortable spot in Sloan's crap in order to be closer to her.

"I think she's pretty serious," you whisper back, your eyes lingering on Addison who is now throwing around words like _Jedi_ and _Yoda_ and phrases like, _The Force_.

"I always thought she was a cool chick," Callie continues to whisper conspiratorially next to you. She's looking towards Addison now too, her chin resting on your shoulder. "I guess I called that wrong."

Finally Teddy angers Addison beyond when she makes a comment about how it's not like Stars Wars is on the same level as Indiana Jones or something.

And you have to agree on that. Your family has a particular fondness for _The Temple of Doom._

You get back to the game. You and Callie both have eight fingers remaining while the other two girls have nine. You joke that Addison should have to put down more since she has clearly seen Star Wars more than once. When she just gives you a stare down, you return to thinking of what you want to say.

"I've never," you refuse to say this _never have I ever_ crap, "bought an item of clothing that cost more than seventy dollars."

You say this simply because you know it irks Callie when you tease her gently about her wealth. You've watched her during your private conversations and the one time you seriously talked about her family's money she genuinely got all shy and conservative which is not the girl you feel she normally is with her friends. Yet, you can't help but think that who she is with you, is her authentic self. Plus, you just love to comment when she begins stories with, _Well once when our private jet got delayed..._

Addison and Callie both lose a finger as expected and Teddy scrunches her face up as she tries to think through a lifetime of purchases. Finally her face clears and she drops a finger. "Prom dress."

This launches into a whole spiel about high school proms. You get all giddy as you recall the beautiful dress your mother helped you sew for the occasion and how your little conservative school that year had never had a girl buy a prom ticket for another girl. And how you had to actually wait off to the side when they went and checked their rulebook about that. You are glad you are able to laugh about it now.

Addison somehow connects her prom back to her beloved Star Wars and some kid named Skippy Gold. Teddy says how she last minute had to go with friends because her date stood her up and when Callie comments about how at least Teddy got asked, you turn to look at her in confusion.

Callie is hot. Like dirty hot. There must have been whole football teams tripping over themselves to take her out to a dance. The other girls pause their conversation to look at her with confusion on their faces too.

"Nobody asked you?" you ask, speaking really quietly, impressing even yourself with your volume control.

Callie shakes her head no and you try to tell if she's embarrassed or what, but she looks like she always looks. She says it only because it's true.

"But you're hot." Teddy blurts out, taking another gulp of booze as she waves her free hand at Callie's body. "Like dirty hot."

You swallow your own mouthful of alcohol in order to not choke. It seems as if Teddy is now pulling your words from your mind.

"Callie was too badass to even want to go to prom." Addison says this like she has no doubt that it was true.

"No, no. I wanted to go. I even made a hair appointment months in advance at this cute little boutique place. But then nobody asked." She kinda looks over her shoulder for a second before continuing. "I was really into science when I was a kid."

You scrunch your face up at that because you, Arizona, are a lover of all things science. But that was before. Sometimes you forget that you are trying desperately to not think about things like science and medicine, futures and happy.

"Let's just put it all out there," Callie continues, "I was that girl who sat in the back and ate my own hair, okay?" She says it with a laugh and the other two girls crack up because the Callie in this truck and the Callie of munching on her hair, so don't match up. "Usually I mention that in a reference to someone else I knew or a general thing. I try to never admit that I was that girl. Oh, it was so sad. And probably explains why I went so overboard after that, with the partying and the wealth in everyone's face, hoping to erase that memory." Callie reaches for the bottle in between your thighs, grips it and takes a sip before replacing it.

"Arizona, you okay?" Callie must have caught the look on your face because now she's staring at you with concern. Which is reasonable as you do have tears dripping down your face.

"Oh my god, are you crying?" Teddy asks, shifting closer to you in order to inspect your face.

You sniffle and try to wipe your cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." However, the tears just keep on coming. "I mean, it's so sad." You glance over at Callie who has this unexpected look on her face like she's not certain where you are gonna take this. "I mean everyone should go to their prom." And at that you burst into more tears and now your body is shaking.

You can hear Addison and Teddy's laughter and you wave at them in order to communicate your desire for them to shut up. Callie however pulls you into her lap and kinda soothes your hair and face.

"Ahh, Arizona. Don't cry. It's okay, really. I got over it," Callie whispers.

"No, no. It isn't," you insist. "You were waiting for someone to ask and then nobody did. I can see you sitting in class all alone; tensing up every time a boy stopped to say something." You have to pause here in order to gulp down more air. "You were just sitting there waiting. And hoping. And hair appointments being made. And then, and then you probably went out for ice cream with your family the night of and accidentally saw all the other girls in their dresses and corsages and they were with their dates. And you were just with your family licking a dumb sprinkle cone! Oh my god, that's awful!"

You try to breathe through your explanation, which is hard because you are crying really hard. Did you mention that you get oddly emotional when you're drunk?

Callie, however, is sorta laughing. "No, no there was no ice cream, Arizona. And definitely no sprinkle cone. It wasn't that bad. I didn't really want to go anyways. Besides I got breasts like two seconds later and all got good."

You body starts to calm down as Callie rocks you back and forth. Finally you take a really big breath in and then kinda sink into her chest. "I would have asked you even if you did eat your hair," you tell her.

You can hear her chuckling at that. Her arms hug you harder and you close your eyes for a brief moment. You are about to pull your shit together when the truck suddenly lurches to a harsh stop.

"We're here. What did I miss?" Mark asks, jumping from his seat and unlatching the truck bed so he can help you all down. Addison takes his offered hand and stretches her body when her feet hit the ground. Teddy bails out over the other side.

"What did I miss?" He whispers it again to Addison as he takes in your wet cheeks and exhausted form wrapped around Calliope.

"Oh, prom," Addison says, waving her hand like it's nothing. "It can get a girl very emotional."

* * *

_[sober] CALLIE POV_

It's late afternoon the following day and the whole group of you just got back from a never ending walk around the dam. It's hot and you're stripped down to just a pair of running shorts and your tank top from the day before. Your sneakers are covered in dust, the dirt has made its way up so that it cakes around your calves.

You pull your dark ponytail away from where it is plastered to your neck as you survey your make-shift camping spot. You barely had time last night to grab one of the blankets Mark brought, tuck Arizona in because she was so drained and beat from her prom meltdown, before passing out in your own drunken exhaustion. You all collapsed under the stars and were out in minutes.

Mark is currently in the pick-up trying to find somewhere local to grab some food, the one real thing he didn't bring in the truck. Teddy and Addison are collapsed in folding chairs under a tree trying to grab some shade. You watch as Teddy practically starts to nod off, exhaustion etched into her features.

Arizona's voice rings out as you head towards the shade.

"I'm going for a swim. Calliope, you coming?" Arizona asks.

Teddy's eyes flash open at that and you catch your breath. Addison mouths your full name at you with a question playing across her face. Then she whispers something to Teddy who says something about how they should probably be insulted that they weren't invited.

"Ah. Sure," you say, turning back towards her. Arizona immediately starts walking down a ways to where the grass and dirt melt into water.

You follow her a ways off so that you are not within hearing range of the campsite, watch her pull up short in front of a sign. It says in clear Setswana that no swimming is allowed. There is even a picture of a swimmer with a big X through the diagram. It's pretty clear.

You stand behind her as she looks at it.

"We could just say we don't know any Setswana," Arizona offers.

A smirk makes its way across your face as you watch the conflict going on inside her brain.

"We could," you confirm. Arizona looks over her shoulder at you and her face breaks into this really easy smile.

You tilt your chin at her, daring her to back down. Then you step in front of her and walk until you are right at the water's edge. You squat down and untie your dirty sneakers as you peer to your left where she is doing the same. You both stand when you're done and then you both just kinda stare at one another.

Minus the midnight and minus the booze and you both are a lot less fearless. You don't have a suit and you know for damn sure neither does Arizona. Her laughter floats over to you as you both take in the situation.

And then she surprises you. She pulls her hair out of its tight braids and combs her fingers through the curls as they bounce free over her face. Arizona then looks at you once more before shrugging and stripping off her t-shirt.

You barely get a chance to see her newly exposed skin before she has ridden herself of her own shorts and practically sprints into the water. All you see is a flash of white skin and what you think are rainbow striped panties before Arizona clad in her sports bra disappear into the lake.

_Fuck_, this girl is going to get you into a ton of trouble. _And_ it turns you on.

"Get your hot ass into the lake Calliope."Arizona's voice rings out.

You laugh as her head goes under the water, her fingers clasping her nose as she does it. Arizona is so the type of girl who plugs her nose before she submerges. So. That. Girl.

While she's underwater you strip off your clothes, standing there in only your barely there bra and panties when she resurfaces. You get all lost in a wet Arizona as her torso comes into view and water drips all over her. Her own eyes roam over your form when you ease into the lake. You get deep enough in the water to where your thighs are submerged yet she is still a good distance away. And then she brings up an excellent point.

"You sure you want to get your nice bra all wet?"

You glance down at your chest. The plum lace that encases your breasts _is_ kinda nice. However, you don't want to be the first one to shed a delicate. But now that she's pointed it out, you can't very well back down.

You look back at her to find her smirking at you, her laughter barely contained.

_What the hell. _

And with that you shake your head at her as your fingers run across your back. They locate the clasp and you pull the fabric off yourself and fling it towards the direction of the shore without breaking eye contact. You pray it met land because the garment falling into water would kinda defeat the whole point.

You do not shield yourself and you do not turn your back. You despise fake modesty _and_ you're not stupid. You have a hot rack. You aren't vain either but your boobs _are_ kinda perfect, so you go with it.

At this point you have no other choice but to continue like nothing is going on so you dive in her direction. The cold water filters through your body, seeping into every pore and it feels so damn wonderful.

You kick your feet slightly behind you so that you propel yourself silently in her direction. A few feet in front of you and you can make out her white legs standing where you last saw her. You wrestle with the idea of popping up next to her or tackling her lower half and dragging her down into the water.

The later option wins hard.

Her whole body tenses up as soon as you wrap your arms around her thighs. One hand finds hers, which dangles in the water, and you clasp your fingers around her own. You can hear Arizona's squeals and giggles from above the water as she fights being taken down.

You win and then your bodies are tumbling over each other as you both somersault through the water. Your feet come in contact with the bottom and you push off towards the top, hauling her to the surface with you.

She is spitting water out of her mouth, snorting and clawing at her eyes to try and clear the water from them, all at the same time. Poor girl did not have time to plug her nose. You push your wet hair off your face in order to watch her. Her laughter delights you.

Throughout your tumble the two of you have moved to deeper water. The water is up to your collarbone as you stand flat footed on the bottom. The water laps at her neck and chin as she hops from toe to tippy toe.

"Callie!" She's still sputtering water. "I'm so gonna get you for that!"

"Oh yeah?" You take a step closer to her, a few measly feet separating you from her. "Bring it on," you dare.

You both lock eyes and again she loses her concentration and stares at your lips. She finally drags her sight back up. "I'd watch my back if I were you," Arizona barely manages out.

Her normal trash talk tone is gone. So is her giggly casual tone. So is her serious personal tone. All that's left is this entirely different and new tone that you've never heard from her. It's deep and it's throaty. It makes you wet.

She takes a hop closer to you but also shifts to slightly shallower water so she can stand firmly on her own two feet. The water is still in gentle turmoil from your plunge and it gently laps at her neck. It makes you want to see everything that is right below the surface.

You both step even closer to each other so that you're practically breathing on each other's faces.

"This is a bad idea," she breathes out.

"Very bad," you agree.

Both of you know this is stupid, what with the room sharing and the close proximity that if something goes wrong it will result in extreme and uncomfortable awkwardness. Not to mention that soon you'll both be serving on most likely opposite sides of Africa.

"Stupid really." Arizona's voice is not at all convincing and her eyes again linger on your lips.

You close the final distance as you mutter against her. "Probably." You are now swallowing the air she breathes out.

Your lips touch hers and it's slow. Surprisingly slow for all the tension that's been building. You aren't kissing her really. Instead your lips tug at hers in consideration. She bites on your own lip with her teeth ever so slightly. Trying each other on.

Your brain goes in a hundred different directions as you just barely ghost over lips. All of your thoughts end with the same conclusion. Stupid. Dumb. Never gonna work. You know Arizona is thinking the same yet you both seem to disregard that line of thinking at exactly the same time because then she is actually kissing you and you, you are so kissing her back.

Your body slides against hers. The material of her sports bra scraping against your bare chest. Her arms sling over your shoulder and perch so that her hands weave through your wet locks. Your own arms circle her waist, drawing her even closer. Arizona is intoxicating. Her mouth feels so fucking good against your own. She opens her mouth just as your own tongue decides to beg for entrance. She's warm. Everything about her is warm. Her mouth, her tongue, her body.

She sucks on your tongue as it explores everything inside of her. You rub the roof of her mouth once before she forces her own tongue into the dominate position. She moans as your tongues drag and massage, explore and suck and at the same time you trail one hand up her body and then up her arm and up her throat until you are cupping her jaw in your hand. You somehow drag her even closer to you.

She pulls back for air and rests her forehead against yours, water droplets flicking off her hair and onto your face. You rub your thumb along her cheek as you try to get your breathing under control.

"Fuck. You taste good." She gasps it out as she tries to catch her breath.

"You have no idea how long I've been forcing myself not to think about this," you say. Your head is dizzy with her yet you force your brain to work enough to command your hands to run down her legs and under her thighs as you pick her up. Arizona wraps her legs around your waist, letting out this moan that makes you gasp into her neck.

The novelty of first kisses, in your past, have always worn off super fast. First kiss, great. Now let's get to the naked part. Sure, you are desperate to see Arizona naked. Desperate to feel Arizona's naked body. The thought of your fingers inside of her, of how she will feel tightening around you, has you overwhelmed with need. But you could kiss Arizona forever. You could do nothing but make-out with this girl and be okay with just that for a very long time.

Not that you aren't going to try and make her climax as soon as you possibly can but for the record you think it's important to notice that you could lose yourself inside her mouth.

Arizona has her strong legs wrapped around your body and her new slight height advantage allows her to control every part of the kiss. And it's hot. Arizona and the constant sounds she's making are driving your absolutely insane. One second she's moaning into your mouth and you swallow her sounds as soon as she makes them. The next she's almost growling against you as she runs her tongue along you bottom lip.

And then she starts moving her hips and holy fuck. She grinds on you in this slow little precise pattern that makes you want to add your fingers in and throw her off balance. The idea of getting someone else off has never been this arousing. You want her to think she knows exactly where this is going and then you want to force her to arch her back, throw her head back and in doing so watch her shatter only when you decide she can.

Your hands urge her hip motion on as you drag her up and down your waist while she bucks against you. You know the friction must be killing her because she starts panting slight little, _oh my gods_, every time you drag her clit across the hard planes of your stomach.

Since you are still submerged in water she is light and easy to hold. So you release one hip as you trail your fingers across her stomach. Her muscles tense when you pass them, abs tight and body twitching in anticipation. You splay your palm against her upper torso so that it rests right below her bra.

"Take it off," you growl into her mouth as she abandons your neck and goes back to your lips.

Arizona pulls back and her eyes are dark with lust and you quickly lean in and nip at her lip again before letting her arch back slightly so she can peel her sports bra off. She flings it with all her might towards shore and you barely register it landing in the shallows before she is back to rubbing against you.

"Jesus." You have no idea who says it but the concept of Arizona's breasts rubbing against your own is un_fucking_believable. Her nipples are just as hard as yours and when they touch you feel violent shocks that seem to pant out a rhythm, reminding you how she might feel elsewhere.

As she continues to rock against you and push herself up your body and then back down, her legs still firmly wrapped around you, your eyes take her in. Every time she lifts up, her chest comes into view. You watch the water consume her breasts as they rub against yours and then you watch them surface for a second before again disappearing.

Arizona's hands leave your shoulders and she trails them across your back as she nips and sucks along your neck. You tilt your head back and gasp into the sky as she ignites your skin. She trails her hands along your ribs and then comes around and instantly molds your breasts with her palms.

"God, Arizona." You gasp it out as she avoids your nipples, instead fingers drumming on the side of your breasts. She moves one thumb closer and closer and finally she's tracing light circles around your left nipple. Her tongue traces patters on your ear lobe. You send a curse into the sky when she then sucks that lobe into her mouth, bites it once and pinches both nipples at exactly the same moment.

You swear you could come.

"Arizona?" You pant it out, lust and want spilling out of your mouth

"Hm?" Her mouth is kinda busy with your jaw line.

"Do you mind if I, ah fuck, do that again," you demand.

She bites the softest part of your throat and then covers it with a pass of her tongue not at all like she's interested in soothing your skin or hiding her mark.

"Do I mind what?" Arizona asks, continuing to run her hands all over your chest, palming you briefly before disappearing down your stomach and tracing the band of your panties.

You get distracted by her close proximity to where you really want her.

"If I, ah. Move this to the shore. There is no way I can touch you like I want to here in the water," you finally finish.

"Fuck," Arizona gasps it out as she clings to your waist, your right hand gripping her thigh to punctuate your words. You palm one of her breasts, tweaking a nipple for added effect. "That would be good," she breathlessly finishes and you find her mouth again as she wraps her arms around your shoulders and you walk towards shallow water.

The idea of Arizona lying in a few inches of water, underneath you as you fuck her into a comma, makes your brain pretty fuzzy. You can practically imagine her commanding you to finger her harder right before she tightens around you and floods your palm with herself, ecstasy all over her face. The image makes you take longer strides.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, Calliope," Arizona moans into your neck.

And then there's _that_.

The water is now only up to your waist and you pause as her fully exposed chest comes into better view. _Fuck_, she's perfect.

"Callie! Arizona!"

The voice come hurling into your reality just as red hair appears from behind a tree as Addison about rounds the corner.

"Lunch is ready! Where are you guys?" your friend calls.

Both you and Arizona freeze for a split second before Arizona practically launches herself into deeper water, dragging you with her.

When you both are fully submerged, the shallow water dropping off dramatically fast, Arizona pulls you to her. Her mouth finds yours amidst a sea of green. It's brief, it's hard, bruised lips pulled aginst bruised lips. And then Arizona kicks off in the opposite direction.

When the two of you surface, you are a good distance from one another. You tread water as you shout out to Addison.

"Hey! We're over here," you shout, raising a hand as your legs do double time.

"Hey. How's it feel out there?" Addison shields her eyes so she can make you both out.

"Ah. Feels fucking fantastic," Arizona shouts back. You can't help but groan and laugh all at the same time.

"Mark is back and I brought you some towels from the truck since you didn't take any," Addison replies, setting her gift on the shore.

"Thanks Addie." You swim towards the shore as Arizona does the same. You calm yourself so that you won't punch dear Addie out when you get over to her.

The two of you emerge and then walk towards her, Arizona grabbing her sports bra on the way and snapping it back on. You palm your naked chest trying to appear somewhat modest as you grab the offered towel and dry off. You clasp your own bra back on, pick up a set of clothing not even positive if it's yours, throw your feet into your sneakers and wrap the towel around your body.

Arizona ignores the towel, bends over and tosses her curls to shake out the excess water. You can't help but eye her still mostly naked body.

Addison does not miss the look. Plus you can already feel several marks on your neck making an appearance.

"Hm. I bet it really was fucking fantastic." The sarcasm rolls off Addie's tongue as she tosses the other towel at Arizona and leads the hike back up to the campsite.


	8. Chapter 8

_-CALLIE POV-_

Lunch is awkward. Not awkward, awkward. Just— fine, awkward awkward. First, Addison can't keep her pretty little mouth shut. She goes from, "So how was the swimming?" to "I bet that water out there felt good, like really good, right Cal?" Sarcasm and innuendo drip off her tone nonstop.

Several of these questions in and you've decided that you now hate this girl called Addison Forbes Montgomery. Thanks to her, everyone else is now pretty much up to speed on you and Arizona, not that either of you have said shit. But your bad attempts of coming up with a subject shift and Arizona's obvious blush aren't helping to convince otherwise.

Neither is the fact that Arizona has picked up this casual little habit of placing her palm on your thigh when she isn't using that hand to eat her sandwich. At first you thought it was a flirty move or a bold one or something to turn you on. At one point you even thought maybe it was a silent communication over the fact that Arizona doesn't even like sandwiches. But there's no glint in her eye or smirk on her lips; instead it's just this easy little gesture that obviously feels natural to her.

And you have to admit, after the eighth or so time you've started looking forward to it. You ask Mark to pass the water jug, taking a long swig and placing it back on the table when you're finished. And it's ten minutes later before you realize your fingers are intertwined with Arizona's. Right on the bench next to your bodies.

Thirty minutes later and everyone is fed and watered.

"Cal, hand me the chairs," Mark calls out. Teddy hands him some stuff to pack inside the truck. You grab two of the chairs, fold them, and haul them up to him from your position on the ground.

Arizona is placing all the trash in a bag and steps up next to you to swing it into the back seat. The bag makes a loud crash as the booze bottles make contact with the truck bed.

"Damn, we all drank a ton," Arizona announces as Addison climbs up next to Mark with three more bottles in her hand and adds them to the bag.

You, Teddy, and Arizona do a quick scan of the area before announcing that it's clean. Arizona places one sneaker clad foot on the bumper of the truck and braces her arms to pull her weight up. You automatically reach out and find your hands gripping her hips to help her. When she gets inside she offers a hand down to help you. It isn't until you are both standing in the truck bed that you notice the other three watching you.

"What?" You shoot it at them because you're embarrassed that you and Arizona so naturally move with each other. It strikes you as new territory. Somehow, even this soon, helping her, being with her, _whatever_, is an instinct.

"Nothing," Teddy says, sending you both a giant smile before motioning with her head to the cab portion of the truck. "You want me to drive, Mark?"

"No. I'm okay this time." He jumps over the side of the truck and lands in the dirt before opening the front door.

"I think I'll ride up with you." Teddy says it as she stares hard at Addison.

You catch Arizona's eye roll at their not so subtle silent conversation.

"_Oh_. Me too." Addison catches on way too fast for her own good. Especially since all three of them sitting up there will be overly cramped. She too bails out of the back before announcing over her shoulder, even less convincing than Teddy. "The dust kick-up from back there is just awful."

Mark laughs and pulls himself into the driver's seat. Teddy climbs in from the other side to situate herself half in Mark's lap and half in the non-existent middle seat. Addison is almost in behind her when she calls out to you and Arizona who are still standing up in the back.

"Besides, I didn't have a nice refreshing friendly swim." Addison's reasoning makes absolutely no sense, but Arizona's throaty laugh as she plops down against the pile of stuff eases the potentially awkward situation.

You send Addison your most full-blown scowl. She flashes you a smile in return and pops her head back into the front and slams the door shut. You scan the back for a comfortable spot to sit when you notice Arizona pushing some stuff around. She creates a backrest as she faces in the direction of the back of the truck. You watch as she punches a few towels to create some semi comfort before scooting to the side and leaving an obvious spot for you.

You smile at her as she tilts her head up towards you. Her hand comes up to shield her eyes against the sun and it's just a brief flash of dimples and white teeth before you are settling in next to her. You notice that she has kinda blocked you both from the others up front. But then, just as the truck starts up you hear the window between the cab and truck bed slam shut.

You look over at her and the two of you stare at each other for exactly three seconds before bursting into laughter. You barely know Addison, really. And you definitely don't know Teddy or Mark that well at all. Arizona either, to be honest. But this obvious close-knit group of friends you've fallen into is startling wonderful.

They are unlike your friends from home except they are sometimes exactly like your friends from home. Mark's basic personality is identical to every guy you've spent time with from Miami and Addison is from that group. Except the difference is there is this depth to both of them. You can hear the urgency in Addison's voice when she talks about her future and you can see the loyalty in Mark's eyes when he does things like make an effort for your group to have fun. And Teddy is just plain ole kind. Often times, on your walks to the training center, you find yourself breaking off to talk to Teddy about anything and everything because she seems so comfortable and certain about who she is even as she questions and explores everything about herself.

And Arizona. Arizona makes you want a redo. You want to go back to the summer before college and change the whole movement you made to fit in and be a surfacey fun girl. Not that it was an all out bad decision. It was necessary. At the time it was necessary. It was fun and you are certain a lot of people live like that and are very content. Those years have shown you how much more you really want. You don't like the idea of regrets. But Arizona? Arizona somehow reminds you of who you really are.

Arizona as a person makes you crave her substance. You want to just sit cross-legged on your bed as you watch her do her nightly yoga moves on the floor and talk and talk and talk. And some evenings the two of you do just that and the conversations float from light to deep to real to laughter. It gives you this glimpse of what it is like to come into your own. You literally watch yourself discover adulthood and identity and cheesy shit like that with her tugging you along behind her.

And then this morning just as the sun was appearing beyond the horizon Teddy had sat up next to you and in her attempts to extract herself from the blankets that were spread out on the ground, she practically fell on top of you. You had opened your eyes at her movement and the tail end of your dream kinda floated in front of your face before it disappeared out of your memory. But in that brief moment you had caught a glimpse of a seventeen year old Arizona with that toothy easy grin she has going on, sliding up to your school desk, cocking her head like she does and asking you to prom.

"You look like you're having a good thought." Arizona's voice startles you out of your assessment of your new friends, including the girl with her legs pressed up right next to yours. Your eyes get distracted by the contrast in skin tone of both sets of legs. As if she's reading your mind, she slides one leg under yours so that they are intertwined and hooks her heel on top of your foot. You can feel the heat radiating off her body and she scoots even closer so that your hips are touching side-by-side. Arizona positions her body so that her torso is facing you. Her shoulders angle towards your own and you automatically shift to match her.

"Wow. Some really deep thoughts going on in there, yeah?" She moves one hand as if to brush a stand of dark hair off your face but the wind from the road swoops in and does it for her and she drops her hand without it making contact.

You smile really softly at her. "Arizona." You hardly breathe it out but still it falls into the crook of her neck. And then one of Arizona's hands is wrapping itself loosely around the front of your throat as if to silence you even more. Her mouth lingers in front of your face for less then a moment before you nudge her even closer and she kisses you.

It's gentle and so very soft. So much so that is surprises you. She doesn't run her tongue against your teeth in order to ask for permission and when you finally decide to do it yourself, she pulls back without granting access. Her forehead finds purchase on your shoulder and your bodies mold together. Her breath washes against the bare skin of your throat, your collarbone, your shoulder.

"Calliope, I'm a mess," Arizona whispers, her voice so soft that it's hard to hear it over the bumping and lurching of the truck and the road. She picks her head up and looks into your eyes. Again, you say nothing because you don't know what to say. "And I can't read you," she continues. "I have no idea what this is." She waves her hand in-between the two of you.

"Arizona." You say her name again and this time she doesn't cut you off. "You are not a mess, in fact I'm sitting here thinking about how wonderful you are and how well you know yourself and don't care what others think. And how I want to be more like that. And how I don't want to hurt you and how I have a pattern of hurting people."

She pulls back a little more. "I think that's in your head," she states.

"It's not," you insist. "I'm twenty-two and I have never been with anyone even close to longish or even casually been with someone who makes me want to be a better person. You..." You pause because you aren't sure if what you're saying is helpful or not. "You make me want to be better. To be real, to try something I don't usually try, to get involved with someone that will hurt, really hurt if it doesn't work out." You stop because you start second guessing yourself. Maybe Arizona simply wants to fuck. Maybe she has no intention of wanting to let you sing her songs forever. Maybe this is all in your head.

This time when Arizona reaches out she gets to the stray curl of hair before the wind does. She slides it off your forehead and tucks it behind your ear for you as she considers your words.

"I get that." She confirms your worries and then adds her own. "But Callie, I have no idea who I am anymore. I use to, I think. But now," Arizona trails off before swallowing a few times, her throat visibly giving away the motion. But she keeps going. "After Timothy... nothing made sense anymore. You know? Before, before I had all these plans and wishes and now, well I feel lost, so completely lost and broken and and I don't know... sometimes I just want to curl into a ball and die too and then other times, like now... now," her sigh washes over you. "I have stupid little futures running through my head and you, you're in all of them."

Her chin drops and she stops looking at you. You see the blush creep up her face and you know she's embarrassed. "That's dumb right?" Arizona says. "I mean I don't even know you, really." Arizona peeks at you from under her bangs, shooting her disclaimer out in a quick breath.

This time it's you who brushes your palm over her forehead, flicking stray blonde strands out of her eyes. "You deserve so many good things Arizona. And us, I _do_ know you and I think you know me too, otherwise this wouldn't be so difficult." You realize as soon as you say it that you believe it.

You glance over her shoulder at the dirt road that is slipping past you on both sides of the truck. You let out another deep breath and then you decide to take a risk. "I think I'm in. If you are, then I am. Training is still two more months, we could just— see?"

"And what happens when we're placed in different places?" Arizona asks. "I mean we could easily go the next two years without seeing each other. I mean Botswana is huge." Her voice really falters here and you know it's her fear of sleeping alone with the dreams. This realization, the one that you know what she's thinking right now really startles you.

"I guess— I guess we just figure it out?" It sounds lame even to your own ears, but you don't know how else to convey how much you just have to see this through. How certain you are that if you don't it might easily be the biggest regret of your life. You wait for her to respond. Arizona says nothing and you think to yourself that with anyone else this consideration, this pause in Arizona's talking, would freak you out. It would make you take back everything you said. Instead though you just rest your head on her shoulder and finally she tips her own head on top of yours.

"Okay."

You don't shift and neither does she. "Okay."

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

You watch the town where you and Calliope live come into view. You turn your face slightly to the side to avoid the wave of dust that picks up as Mark turns onto the smaller dirt road. Your eyes shift down to Callie who is leaning against you, legs still intertwined, her head bumping against your shoulder with the road. Her eyes are closed and you watch her chest rise and fall softly with sleep. The sun in low at this point, about to wink one last time and disappear all together.

The truck slows and you're glad Mark isn't dropping you off right in front of your home because if anyone catches on that you all drove in a truck without permission, well it could get bad.

"Callie. Callie." You call out to her until her eyelids flutter open and she blinks back the sleep and then notices where she is.

"We're home?" Her voice is raspy and you smile at her calling your tiny little back bedroom, home.

"Yeah. We're home." And with that the truck comes to a complete stop.

Addison is out the side door and peering over the truck bed as you raise your arms over your head and stretch you body. You watch Addison take in your legs, still resting around Callie's. You look back at Callie who is staring at the exposed skin of your stomach. And in that one second, in that one look from those dark chocolate eyes, your desire hits. Fuck, does it hit hard.

You shake your head, laugh at Addison, laugh at yourself, extract yourself, tug your t-shirt down, stand up. You help Callie to her feet as she grabs your shared backpack and the two of you hop down. You give Addie a hug and then lean in through the window to hug Teddy. Mark raises his hand for a high five in which you laugh at and then slap back in amusement.

"Have fun, Blue Eyes," he calls.

Callie shifts past you to say goodbye to Teddy and then walks over to Mark's window where she reaches in and places a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Thanks Mark for a wonderful day off."

You watch him blush at the comment and you wonder if Mark Sloan has ever even had a real friend. Addison climbs back in and you and Callie head off. Addison's voice rings out at your departing backs. "Wear a condom!" And with that she and Teddy are giggling madly as the truck turns back around and heads off down the road.

The two of you let out soft laughs as you make your way to your home. Several neighbors stop what they're doing as you pass by to wave and call out greetings. Callie stops to have a conversation with the man who is heading up the new sewer system that the town in working on with volunteers from the wave before your own. You pause for second as her Setswana transfers into English and the man starts explaining the latest developments.

"Arizona! Arizona!" You spin in the direction of the voices and Gorata and Katlego, the five-year-old twins from next-door, launch themselves in your direction.

"Hey, girls!" You lean down to pull them into a huge hug as you marvel at Kat's English when she launches into a story about her day. They tug you in the direction of a patch of grass not far from where you are kneeled and the three of you sit down as Katlego continues her ramble. Gorata situates herself in your lap as Kat kneels right in front of you so that as she talks her face is only inches from your own.

Your heart warms at their faces and you thank god that the children in this town are not underfed. Yes, they are small when compared to a standard American child, but they are not starving and you brace yourself for the day when you will be interacting with children who are.

It tugs at your heart to hear the statistics of disease that float through Botswana and you have no idea if these children are HIV positive or what. Once you are given your permanent assignments most likely you will be sent somewhere distant and remote. The few luxuries that you are enjoying now will no longer be. And somewhere more remote means somewhere with less everything. Fewer resources, less money, less education, less access to health care, and therefore, a higher likelihood of children who are living with AIDS. And this truth sends your heart lurching. Tears prick at your eyes for a brief moment when you admit to yourself that lately you've been wondering how the hell you will ever be able to leave this place and go back to your own world in the States. You push the thought from your mind as you concentrate on Kat's story.

Baruti comes flying out from around back and runs as fast as his bare feet can take him in your direction. You yell at him to slow down so that he doesn't trip but he maintains his speed until he tackles you and sweet little Gorata in your lap. Kat pounces on top of the heap and all four of you giggle madly.

"Baruti!" you shout, pinning his hands down so that you can tickle his sides. He shrieks with laughter. The twins join in as they too tap their fingers over his body to elicit giggles from the boy.

He finally wiggles free and climbs into your lap as you tug Garata back next to you as well. The little girl is shy and stares at your white face and blonde curls without abandon all day long. You lean forward and rub your nose with hers, a gesture you taught her last week. Her little face breaks into a smile as she snuggles in closer to your side.

"O kae?" you say, questioning Baruti on how he is.

"Ke teng," he replies.

"That good, huh?" You smile at the little boy that you live with as his face scrunches up in slight confusion.

"Huh?" He questions your American slang.

You struggle for a second to explain. "It means, ee? Yes?"

"Oh! Yes! Ke teng!"

Baruti gets a kick when he learns something new in English since most of the time he's correcting and helping you with your Setswana.

The little kids take turns sharing their latest adventures with you and you laugh when Kat says how you've been gone for _so_ long. You remind her it hasn't even been a whole two days since you last saw her. Finally Gorata tugs something out of her pocket and her shift in movement draws your attention to her. She peeks up shyly at you and holds her palm out where you can see a string of red beads.

"Ooh! Pretty," you tell her.

She holds it out for you and her sister tells you that she made it for you.

"Gorata, it's so pretty. Thank you. Ke a leboga."

You tie the beads around your wrist and hold it out for her to see. She runs her fingers along the red beads and then holds out her other wrist where a similar strand is.

"In America when someone gives a friend a matching bracelet we call it a friendship bracelet," you tell her.

Kat uses the native word for friendship to clarify for her sister, Baruti, and herself, and you nod your head yes. Gorata's face lights up at that.

"Friendship bracelet," Gorata whispers, trying the new phrase out as she holds her wrist next to yours. She lifts her head again and when you flash her a dimpled smile she giggles and hides her head into your side.

Katlego kinda huffs at that, explaining how if she'd known it was a friendship bracelet she would have made you one too.

You laugh at her sweetness and hug her also.

* * *

_It's your first morning. You and Callie arrived late last night, and after the special bond you made over Operation Waterfall, you decide to let Callie sleep in. Plus she's taking up most of the bed anyways. The sun is barely peeking through as you head out, stopping to chat a bit with Tapiwa, your host. And then Baruti decides you are worthy of being introduced to all of his goats._

_After, you walk down the road, introducing yourself to the locals. Some respond with enthusiasm and kindness to your broken Setswana. Others merely ignore you. On your way back you notice two small faces peaking out at you from behind a gate next door to your own place._

"_Dumela!" You call out a good morning._

_Immediately the two faces disappear only to be replaced with girly giggles. You laugh back even though you can't see them anymore. Moments later the faces are there again and this time you wave. This goes on a few times before finally you decide to pull out the big guns. When the girls shift back into view you give them a huge smile and then do a cartwheel right in the middle of the dirt road._

_This time there is no giggling just big eyes from the girls. And then one of them brakes loose. The girl says a whole slew of things you don't understand and then gestures for you to move back so she could show you that she too knows how to do a cartwheel. And that's that. You can tell this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship._

_A good hour later and you've met their mother and asked if it were okay for you to watch the girls until you had to leave for training. She had nodded appreciatively and left. And then you thanked god for you brief stint of gymnastics in the third grade because soon you are teaching the twins backbends, handstands, and spotting them on back-handsprings. Obviously, you are a big hit._

_This is what's happening when Callie finds you. You are in the middle of a dance routine that Katlego, the talkative one, is making up for you and her sister, Gorata. When Kat had discovered your Setswana was good but not brilliant she had declared that dancing didn't involve talking and thus you and Gorata are now being forced to do an odd mix of native ceremonial moves and your own American moves. You know, thrown in for good measure._

_You see Callie from across the street as she locates you with your eyes and walks up towards the group._

"_Arizona! Pay attention!" Kat's English rings out and Callie bursts into laughter as you forget the next dance step._

_The twins spin towards the laughter, freezing when they see Callie._

_You introduce them to her and her to them and soon all four of you are bopping away. When it's time to get to training, the girls hug you, begging you to come play again soon. Little Gorata runs a hand down Callie's arm and says the Setswana word for pretty. When she gets to you she touches your face and then uses the word for funny. The laughter that Callie lets loose is fierce and unprotected. It continues to ring even as the girls run back inside, waving one last time._

"_Did she just say I was funny looking?" you ask._

"_I think she thought your white face was funny looking!"_

"_Hey! Unfair, she thought you were pretty!" You plant your fists on your hips, trying to appear hurt._

"_I don't think my skin is quite as shocking as yours," Callie says._

_You start towards the road then. "I'm not that white."_

_She only laughs harder at that before gesturing to your eyes and then holding up a strand of your very blonde hair._

* * *

Kat pokes you in the ribs, trying to get your attention. You look back at her and the other two children, smiling at your memories of your first meeting. And then at that moment the girl's mother calls out to them from the house to come help her with something. They pop to their feet and let out dejected sighs.

Goitsemedi, their mother, peers her head out at you and waves. You wave back and usher the girls in their mother's direction.

Baruti burrows deeper in your lap as Callie approaches the two of you from behind.

"Callie!" He leaps from you and slings his arms around her neck as she squats down to his level. She gives him a kiss on his forehead in which he immediately repeats the gesture with one to her own. You look at her and the two of you share a grin.

After Baruti is done kissing Calliope he repositions himself in your lap and your arms loop over him in a casual embrace. You listen to him as he turns his face in order to keep filling you in on the past two days. He then repeats a story about his goats that you and Callie have already heard twice but it is so child-like and endearing. He rambles on in order to put off the time you and Callie depart for your own room.

He asks for the twentieth time if he can go to training with you and Callie in the morning. You tell him that he can't and when he pushes to be allowed to at least walk to the main road with you both, you again repeat yourself.

"Same answer as before, Baruti. If your brother will walk with you so that you have someone to walk back with, it's fine with us."

He huffs at that since his older brother has very little interest in the house-guests.

"What about Lija?"

You look over at Callie to make sure you heard right, a smile twitches on her face.

"You want Lija to walk you back?" you ask, clarifing with the small boy and he nods his head enthusiastically back at you. "Baruti! Lija is a goat. Doesn't count!"

This of course launches Baruti into a full-blown run down of Lija's many attributes. When he runs out of English words to describe his goat he goes right into his native tongue and you and Callie have no idea what he's saying anymore.

You hide your face in Baruti's back so that he won't see you laughing and Callie very seriously nods to the small boy as if she is considering his explanation.

Finally the sky starts to fade too much and the three of you walk home where you greet the rest of the family, decline dinner as you all had a late lunch. You and Callie depart out the side-door in order to make your way around back. The silence of the evening doesn't have a chance to creep up before Callie is talking.

"I was hungry."

You stop short at that and look at her. "Then why didn't you say anything? Go get some food." You hook your thumb towards the door you just left.

"I could probably be distracted. You know, occupied by other things," she says.

"Why would you want to be distracted? Go grab something. I'm gonna go get ready for bed."

She looks at you like you're dense and it isn't until she runs a hand up your arm that you get it. She rolls her eyes at you and her hands land on your hips, tugging you towards her as realizations plays across your face.

"You weren't really hungry were you?" The question tumbles out of your mouth without realizing all the opportunities it leaves for her to twist your words.

She laughs into your throat as she nips slightly along the skin there. "Not for stew or cornmeal, that much I'm certain of."

You gasp as her lips trace your jaw and edge towards your ear. You neck falls back and you can't help but laugh a little. "Really? Cause that Lija stew looked awesome."

She pulls back from you and bursts into laughter. "Oh my god, it wasn't Lija stew." She slaps your arm playfully. "That would be awful. Lija stew. It wasn't, was it?" The panic at the end of her voice only makes you laugh back at her.

"No, it wasn't Baruti's beloved goat for dinner, Calliope."

She shakes her head at you and as she grabs your hand certain thoughts float through your mind.

You've always been a pretty sure of yourself person. You never super rebelled against your parents and you definitely did not go wild in college. From a young age you agreed with almost every house rule your family had, you respected your elders and you fell into an easy love for your country. Nobody would label you as a badass and really the one thing you ever did that might have seemed shocking to the world was come out as a lesbian.

When you first met Callie, you couldn't stand the person she appeared to be. And what killed you the most was that part of it was a jealousy thing. She seemed care-free. She seemed to float wherever the wind took her. You had been so caught up in your academics and future dreams at becoming the youngest and most successful pediatric surgeon that the medical world had seen to really stop and have fun. More than that, to take a moment and notice the woman you've slowly become. You want to be free too. You want to just take things as they come. Revel in the moment. You've always been the kind of person who must take a photo to commemorate the moment. You realize now you've got a lot of photos and very little memory of the actual moment.

And then there was Timothy. And it's devastating to know you won't ever see him again. But it was even more devastating last week when you receive your mother's letter from home. It was empty. So empty and you know this. You, you will get through this. You don't know how you know it, but Callie's songs and the way she looks at you like maybe you're changing her world, will get you through this. You want to grieve longer and in a lot of ways you still are but you can also feel the beginning of healing. But your mother? Your mother won't make it. Sure, one day she'll be okay in that she will look forward to things and she'll be genuinely happy when you tell her that you are getting married. And all the other highlights of your life that will come along. But she won't ever be who she was. Losing a child has forever changed her. So in a way you grieve for Timothy and in another way you grieve for your mother.

And at first you were certain that you had to pay your penitence for being the child that lived. You were certain that you would spend the rest of your life just sitting in that. But here, with Callie holding your hand, you want to leap right into a whole world of happy.

You take a deep breath. Callie tugs you towards your room and the serious thoughts fade. You are still half laughing, half horrified at the idea of poor little Baruit's face if his family had in fact chow-downed his only friend. But then Callie pushes you into the little sanctuary of your room and looks at you with the same intensity as she did in the water. And for the first time you are grateful that it is Peace Corps policy that every volunteer is hosted in a room with a lock.

You decide to stop taking photos. You decide to claim the moment.

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

After you push Arizona through the door, you drop her hand in order to turn back and flip the lock. When you spin back, she is staring at the room with her back to you. You swing the backpack out in front of you so that it sails lightly into her vision before landing in the corner. Her eyes follow the movement as you stand behind her and kinda breathe her in. She peers over one shoulder at you and for a moment gone is the bold girl from the water and instead she looks at you with such intensity that you know a thousand thoughts are flitting through her head.

You misread her look as hesitation and take a step back from her. She turns so she's fully facing you and steps towards you right as you step away.

"Arizona, if you're having—"

You can't meet her gaze as your voice trails off and you miss how she tilts her head down in order to try and catch your eyes. You also miss the easy smile that washes over her features as she takes your chin in her hand and tilts your head up.

It isn't until Arizona starts speaking that you meet her eyes. "Callie. We're both aware of how badly this whole thing could go. If your brain has been anywhere near the tracks of my own thinking then you've considered every horrible ending this could have."

You pipe up to add your own agreement but Arizona places two fingers against your lips, silencing you.

She continues, "But I was thinking just now that, that isn't even us. I know it isn't me and I'm pretty sure it isn't you. You don't strike me as the type of person that would turn our mutual friends against me or would you know TP my car and fork my lawn. Say awful things about me or refuse to interact with me in any way."

You soften at Arizona's words especially when she says that the most awful outcomes of this situation aren't in either of your personalities.

You speak now, against her fingers. "I don't have a car, Arizona. The people here would burn me alive if I wasted toilet paper on something not necessary and I don't even know what forking a lawn is."

Your words are not meant to distract Arizona from eventually taking your clothes off, they are meant to just ease some of the tension. They are meant to tell her that you agree with the assessment. But of course she's Arizona and she launches into a story so not to leave you ignorant.

"You've never forked a lawn?" she asks, disbelieving. She drops your face and you follow her until you're both sitting on the bed. When you shake your head no, she looks at you like how can you possibly love the game Ten Fingers but not know what forking a lawn is.

"It's like in-between TP-ing a person's house and tagging someone's sidewalk."

"You're a tagger?" you ask, shock evident in your tone.

"Don't be stupid Callie, of course not." You have to laugh at that. "Where would a skinny white girl who has grown up on army bases her whole childhood have learned the art of graffiti?"

You have to admit she has a point there. "Okay, so forking? It sounds dirty."

"It's not," Arizona says. She runs her fingers along yours and then hooks them together as she continues talking. "You know those super packs of plastic forks? Like the ones of 100. You start there. Then you stick them into a lawn and break off the ends so you can't see them. Then when the person tries to mow their lawn it breaks the machine." She leans back and smiles at you and you kinda think it's from her knowing something badass that you don't.

But instead of being impressed, you're horrified.

"That's awful! Arizona! Why would you do something like that? I can't even believe you would go along with it." You stare at her totally shocked because in front of you sits a girl who had to have her own personal byline added to her Day Off instructions about rule braking. Not 24 hours ago she was freaking out about a borrowed car. Yet, forking a lawn? She's all nonchalant and carefree about.

"Ooh no, no, no. I mean yes. I went along and I laughed because I was suppose to, but both times we ever did it with the other base kids, I snuck back later and pulled all the forks out when nobody was around."

You are practically howling with laughter before Arizona even finishes. She tries not to laugh too and takes a slap at your arm but you catch her and tug her into your lap but so she's still facing you.

"I was gonna say that you must have had a personality change if you use to fork lawns," you say in between giggling.

Arizona is now laughing along with you. "You laughed almost as hard right now as Timothy did when he caught me sneaking into the garage with a trash bag full of broken forks. He knew I wouldn't be able to last."

Arizona's face lights up at the memory and you hate that your own laughter stops in order to assess her mood at the mention of her brother. You run a tentative hand along her jaw.

"No, don't be sad. Don't be sad for me, Calliope," Arizona says, scooting into you. "That was good. That was good to laugh and share that memory with you. That's how I'd like it to be. That's what Tim deserves."

She smiles against your lips and then Arizona is kissing you.

You kiss her back and then pull away slightly to clarify. "So I promise not to TP your suitcase and you promise not to fork my little potted African plant from the market—anything else?"

She laughs against your mouth and in one quick motion she has your shirt over your head and off your body. She stands and toes off her own sneakers before leaning down and pulling your own feet out from under you and tugging at your laces. You can't help but laugh some more at her plight in removing your dirty shoes. When she tosses the group of sneakers into the corner she straightens up and then tugs her own shirt up off her head and then she sticks her hand out.

"Deal?" Arizona asks. "No luggage assault. No plant destroying." Her eyes light up at the silent and real agreement she's referring to. The agreement to be in, all in and see where it goes.

You and me, let's take a risk.

You stick your own hand out to shake hers. "Deal." And then you tug at her so that she falls back onto you, giggling as you both hit the bed.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: A few have asked so I figured I'd explain here. I'm editing the chapters as I repost them. Until that has been completed, the chapters will not be available on other sites. Once they're all reposted, I'll update those other sites. So there isn't a way to read everything right now. Sorry to disappoint. Glad you're enjoying though. There are 18 chapters including the Epilogue. If you'd rather wait for them all to be posted before reading, I totally understand! **

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

Your eyes blink open. There is no sound that startles you awake, no bad dream that forces you into consciousness, no internal alarm clock summoning you from sleep. Instead it's this wave of comfort, this settling of safety that tugs at you until your eyes gently open and take her in.

Your heads are resting on the same pillow, faces turned towards each other. The sheet lies somewhere around your waist and you trace the edge of it with your eyes as it cuts a line from your body to Callie's torso. You can feel her left leg resting in-between yours, your feet tangled at the end of the bed. Your eyes scan the sheet as it covers her calves, her thighs, her hips. Her skin makes an appearance and you follow the curve of her side, her soft breasts, her sloping shoulders. Your own arm peeks out from its position wrapped underneath her. Your hand feels the strength of her back, your fingers still curled into the long dark locks that float down her neck. One strand winds itself over her shoulder, dipping into her collarbone where her chest rises and falls in content sleep. Her breath washes over your face and you take in her features.

You allow yourself to really look at her without fear that she'll see you or get self-conscious. Your own head rests gently on her other arm and you trace her face with your eyes. You take in the length of her eyelashes and how they flutter softly every few breaths. Her cheekbones stand out and you resist the urge to run your fingertips over her face. Her lips are slightly parted and you remember all the sensations they elicited from your own body only a few hours earlier. You smile at the slight crack in her bottom lip from the harsh sun and find yourself transfixed on this slight imperfection. Your eyes drag away to find her neck and how it slopes down perfectly into the expanse of her chest. You notice the dip at the base of her throat and how she growled earlier when you ran your tongue along it. Your gaze continues to the small birthmark right above her left breast. Your eyes widen slightly at the semi prominent bite mark below that, on the soft skin of her upper torso. You wonder how many are scattered across your own skin as you are certain there are even more then just this one along the tanned planes of Calliope's shoulders.

She shifts slightly and repositions her head. Her face inches closer to yours and your own eyelids flutter shut as you feel her cuddle into you. Her nose touches yours and you breathe her in. She lets out this delighted little content sigh before wrapping the arm that hung loosely in-between your bodies to around your waist. She pulls you even closer so that you can feel her bare stomach against yours.

And then she mumbles out a slightly incoherent, "better."

Your eyes peek open again to see if you heard her correctly. She nuzzles her face into yours, her eyes are shut but she still leans in and kisses you. Her blind lips miss and graze your chin. She then repeats herself in a half sigh and half dream.

"Much better."

You can't resist. You tilt your lips down towards hers and brush them softly together. Her eyes blink open at that and she smiles sleepily at you. She kisses you back then, sighing contently into your mouth. You pull back and kiss her briefly several more times.

"Ssh. Sorry love. Go back to sleep," you tell her.

She keeps her eyes closed but wraps her arm even tighter around you so that her fingers dip into the dimples of your lower back.

"No. No sleep. I don't want to ever sleep again if I could be talking to you or touching you or even staring at you."

You giggle softly at Callie's words because the girl's eyes are still firmly shut. You run your fingers across her back and then over her shoulder and up her throat until they run softly across her closed lids.

"Is that so?"

She shifts and you feel her guide your body under her so that you end up on your back with her pressed right on top of you. You gasp out when your entire body lines up with hers and you can no longer feel where you end and Calliope begins. She looks at you now, eyes wide open and with a smile on her face.

"It's so convenient that we not only share a room but that we already share a bed, don't you think?" Calliope husks out.

Her arms circle either side of you so that she can support herself. She tilts her head down and starts planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulder.

"Um hmm."

"I mean, it would be really hard to do this if I had to walk a mile to get to you every night."

You chuckle lightly at that. "You so wouldn't do that."

Her mouth moves to your throat and you feel your body heat up as she runs her tongue along your skin. She nips a few more times along the path to your jaw before covering your mouth with hers. You arch up so to get even closer as she starts to suck on your tongue, coaxing it into her own mouth and back. She pulls away and looks at you. Really looks at you. She leans on one arm and uses her free hand to brush nonexistent curls off your forehead. You smile at the habitual movement even though it isn't necessary.

"Umm. That's where you're wrong Arizona. I so would."

She goes back to kissing you. Intently. You have to concentrate in order to kiss her back properly. But your smile is so damn big that it makes it difficult and Callie laughs softly into your mouth. Her fingers drag down your upper body, a warm palm surrounds your breast. Your smile fades, your body responds.

Sleeping with Callie is a completely different experience than one you've ever had with anyone before. Sure, all sexual encounters are different, but Callie? Callie reminds you of no one. Everything she does surprises you. Every move she makes you cannot predict and not because sleeping with her is new. Or that her physical actions are some new brand of touching. No, that isn't what you mean.

Every sensation Callie elicits from your body is so intense and so consuming that you have nothing to compare it to. It sends your mind completely and utterly reeling from the amount of sheer physical reaction that she demands. It's sensational. It's brand new territory. It makes you want to stand up on the bed and shout to the world, Oh! Oh, oh, oh, you get it now. This is a whole new freakin level, a whole new dimension and Callie has just dragged you and submerged you into it.

It's only been hours of knowing her so intimately and yet you feel no embarrassment or shyness or any sense of needing to hold yourself back. When you beg her to get you off, you do so without abandon. You feel no inhibitions when you angle your body in a way to get that oh so perfect contact. You don't stop yourself from moaning or growling or commanding or begging or urging or cursing for her to, don't stop, don't stop, _fuck Calliope_, don't stop.

Neither of you has any sense of putting certain things off until further into your sexual relationship. She begs you to go down on her not thirty minutes in and then comes twice on your tongue. She pleads for you both to peak at the same time the first round but immediately after that has no qualms in spreading your thighs and bringing you to climax yet again. She tugs at your hair and arches her hips when you tell her that she tastes good and you claw hard at her back when she finally slips a second finger inside of you and makes you feel so very good.

After the urgency of the initial getting off fades, neither of you has any problem verbalizing your appreciation as you explore each other's bodies. Slowly and with something akin to worship. Calliope slides her hands up and down your thighs, spreading them until you straddle her. And when she angles your hips so that she can rock you back and forth, you moan as your center slides against hers. Sweat covers both bodies and the way Callie looks, her hair matted to her forehead, clinging to her neck, only makes you hotter, more urgent. You have no problem gasping out how good she feels, how hot it makes you to hear the sounds of your wet bodies sliding against each other. She curses into your ear, a string of profanities tumbling over your skin. Pulls you in tighter, forces your hips faster, tells you how it drives her fucking insane when you say things like that.

You don't feel impatient or self-conscious when Calliope asks you to lay on your stomach just so she can rub her hands along your spine, tracing your skin, numbering the freckles that litter your back. She explores every inch of your body with her mouth and when she's done she lets you do the same. Doesn't hide from your stare, your admiration, your compliments.

When you slide your tongue inside of her, Callie hums her appreciation. And after an especially big orgasm floods your mouth, ripping through her body, she takes no pause in congratulating you on a fucking well done job.

This time, with you underneath her, you realize what it is about Callie that is so different from all your previous anythings. Sex has always been an out of body experience for you. You throw yourself into it and sometimes that results in great sex and sometimes it only makes an impossible contrast with your partner. But when sex has been good for you in the past, you experience it almost as if it didn't exist. Sex has always been this little side-note to your actual life. Almost as if your world takes a little pause in order for your body to have a release. And you thought that was what sex was.

But with Callie, it's simply the exact opposite. Sex with Callie can only be described as a total body experience. You take yourself with you when she touches you. She makes you so very aware of every part of your body that you wonder what the fuck was going on before. Every single cell is involved and it isn't just a sensation that jets through your stomach and in-between your thighs when you finish. With Callie it feels like your entire body is exploding, your mind is utterly exhausted and your world feels completely used. Used in a very very good way. You get off watching her get off. You get off to her words. You get off on the things you say to her. It's involved and accepts nothing less then your full and complete involvement and attention. A total body experience. And at one point when you say something funny she tells you that she can't wait to tease you about it tomorrow. It's the fact that she says things like that during, making it so casual and yet so intense. She weaves every part of you into the entire experience.

You can never go back. She has ruined you for anyone else. Your world exists between her two hands.

Callie repositions you so that you are straddling her thighs, both of you sitting up so that your nipples glide over each other's every time you thrust over her. Your legs are intertwined so that you can feel her heat right underneath your own.

"Thank god it wasn't all in my imagination," you gasp out. Grateful this wasn't all inside your head. Calliope tightens her grip on one of your thighs and angles the fingers she has inside of you so that they hit your G-spot over and over.

"Fuck." Callie curses it out as you start to press into her clit with your thumb, your own two fingers sliding even deeper inside of her. "I couldn't have imagined you, Arizona."

You lean towards her, causing your hips to reposition and for her fingers to sink even deeper. "Oh god, that feels—_fuck_." You go back to your original reason for shifting and kiss her. It's sloppy and full of tongue, both of you are gasping for breath right about now.

"I need—" She barely gets it out before you are sliding a third finger into her, spreading two of your fingers every time you hit her as deep as you can. "Jesus. Fuck, don't stop, don't stop." She pants it into your mouth as you give up all attempts at making sentences and just gasp a string of profanities back.

Callie is now not only fingering you as fast and as hard as she can but her thumb makes tight circles over your clit. You curl your own fingers, twisting them so they hit her just where she needs it and instantly you feel her tighten around you. Her free hand claws at your back and she bucks underneath your thighs and it only takes a glimpse of her face as it explodes into pleasure for you to follow her over the edge.

Your bodies hinge. Vibrating. Pulsating. Gripping onto everything. Needing. More, more, more. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

You slump into her chest. Her body is sweaty and the salt from her skin sends your taste buds zinging as you scrape your teeth just slightly against the top of her shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a while before she slowly pulls her fingers out from inside of you. You whimper at the loss and she lightly brushes the back of her knuckles along your center before removing her hand all together. You slide your own fingers free and as you do she bites softly on your ear.

You slump back against the bed. Pull the sheet free and up over your bodies with the remaining ounce of energy you have left. Immediately she pulls you to her so that she's spooning you. Her arms wrap around you even as you feel her body still give off a tiny aftershock. She tucks her chin into your neck and you intertwine your fingers together with hers.

You are finished. You are nothing. Your mind can not comprehend one single thing. Your body is heavy and just perfect. She is just perfect. And the darkness is almost everywhere, your eyelids close and sleep is just a moment away. Her voice brushes across you. So soft.

"I've never been nailed that good before."

The memory of two nights ago in the church basement slowly resurfaces. And although half a second ago you were almost dead asleep you can't help but burst into laughter. Her own throaty laugh lands against your neck.

You turn your face to kiss her briefly. "Well your screwing was above and beyond, Calliope."

She laughs back at you and you kiss her once more before twisting back around into your original position. You snuggle even closer to her as her grip tightens even more and with that you fall into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**Let me know how you're liking the story so far!**


	10. Chapter 10

_-CALLIE POV-_

For a whole month now you've been losing yourself in Arizona.

In the mornings you get lost in how her legs look as she pulls herself back through your window after her morning routine of sitting on the roof. Her blonde curls are wild and just everywhere and something about Arizona's fresh morning face makes you giddy beyond imagination.

Then you get lost in the confident smile she has on full display as she auditions your featured song of last night. Sometimes you swear she makes up shit just to get a laugh. That or you have a secret midnight sleep induced fetish with the _Violent Femmes._

On your walk to the center you get lost in her little moments of total childishness. She challenges you to see who can skip the fastest down the road and then after pulls your hand into hers and asks you what your best family memory is. She effortlessly glides between the playful and the serious, drawing a stark line between her and everyone else you've ever been interested in.

During the afternoon you get lost in how she tugs her lower lip in-between her teeth while lessons are being taught. Her concentration and obvious love of knowledge makes you wonder why she never, and you mean never, talks about school. She shares her future dreams with you in a broad yet detailed sense. She talks about wanting to feel alive, always she talks about content-ness and being with someone who challenges her to be a better person. It's deeper than any conversation you've ever had with anyone but at the same time it lacks the obvious details. She never talks career. She responded once that she just graduated university, but never anything more.

You wonder what she studied and you find yourself making up stories about her interests. Somehow, and you can feel it, asking her and more importantly asking her why she never volunteers the information, is a no-no. So you stay quite and figure she'll tell you when she can.

You get lost in her during the late afternoons. Previous volunteers often come back to share their stories. One was involved in providing HIV/AIDS relief and awareness and you tugged Arizona's hand into yours when you caught her eyes filling with tears. It's easy to get lost in Arizona's compassion.

By the end of the day you get lost in how she interacts with the people from your town. You get lost in her ease that is Africa. All night you get lost in how she glides her hands over your naked torso, moving down to your thighs, dipping her fingers inside of you. You tilt your neck back, your mouth open, murmur your appreciation. You get lost when you feel her switch hands and you watch the soaked fingers that were just inside of you, trail down and run hard strokes over her own clit.

You get lost in Arizona when she is so undone that she can no longer kiss you coherently and instead just gasps and pants inside your mouth. And you get lost in her when she falls asleep with her whole body lying on top of yours.

It's sufficed to say that you are lost in her constantly. Completely, safely, whole-heartedly.

Yet, dangerously. This is brand new territory for you. This is so not your usual game. But you can't stop yourself. You cannot make yourself pull away from her. You feel as if you are constantly leaping, constantly hurling yourself down whatever path Arizona is tugging you. It's good, so good, but it's also so very risky. Worth it, yes. Crazy emotional, yes that too.

Every moment with Arizona is wonderful. You keep waiting for the bickering to start back up. It hasn't. At least not yet. And while every moment with Arizona only makes you grin a steady and constant hard hard grin, morning are by far your favorite.

This morning is no exception.

Arizona drags you out of bed and stops you from pulling on pants. She discards her own top after you pout at her in protest. She sets her iPod so that music you can only describe as _Zen_ floats out of it. You roll your eyes at her when it becomes clear that her intention is for the two of you to strike some yoga poses.

"Arizona, I've told you this. Yoga makes me mad," you say.

She chuckles softly behind you at your whining.

"I'm serious, Arizona! I don't like activities that force you to feel a certain way. Nothing is calming about an activity whose constant goal is to make you relax and feel floaty and let everything go and breathe breathe breathe. Like, stop telling me how I feel, you know? Yoga is messed up."

Arizona's hands are on your shoulders. She's standing behind you. A silence fills the air before she asks you, all quiet and _yoga-ish_, "Are you done, Calliope?"

No, actually. You are not done. So you reiterate. "Makes me mad, Arizona. Mad, mad, mad."

Her breath falls across your neck.

"Not how I do yoga, Calliope. Trust me, you'll like it." She presses her body up against yours so that her chest makes delicious contact with your back.

Arizona is only wearing her yoga pants and a sports bra, her feet are bare, her hair still wildly messy from sleep. Her face is still scrubbed clean from last night and right now as you look at her from over your shoulder; she looks insanely young and innocent.

You catch yourself wondering what she'll look like when you are both thirty. An image flashes through your brain as she runs her hands down your bare thighs, spreading your stance. The details are lost because in that glimpse of your future, jobs are of no concern. Housing is not important, neither is location. But in that moment when you see both of you ten years from now, Arizona walks into your bedroom with that still fresh face of hers and pads over to you with something habitual like morning coffee. And then in your future she's now forty and you see yourself running a finger over the small lines around her eyes. Lines that stretch beautifully across her features, reminding you of all the really important moments in your lives. It's all the belly laughs and pleasured moans and gigantic smiles and even grief filled tears. Those lines make up who she is and in a way, who you are as well. You can't wait for those moments, the ones that will etch themselves on her face, spilling out your lives.

Your natural instinct is to not let your mind float to these kinds of thoughts. Your instant reaction, ever since you were a teenager, is to tell yourself this is simple and force it to be so. But Arizona Robbins is not a simple girl. Loving her is not simple. It's consuming. Scary as shit and wonderfully wonderful all in one same blur.

"Calliope?"

"Hm?"

"Stop thinking. You're about to fade out on me."

You blink your eyes as the beautiful older version of Arizona disappears from your mind. It's replaced by the flawless youth this is right in front of you and also a whole year older than yourself. You laugh and lean backwards in order to capture her lips.

"Hm. Dirty thoughts?" she asks. She tugs at your bottom lip with her teeth while she waits for your response.

"Na-uh." You shake your head at her suggestion. "Better than that."

Arizona looks at you with this really intense face and then her eyes start to lift, glinting as the comfort floats down over her features, spreading in a small but sharp grin.

Your own face tilts to the side as you take her in and you wonder what little futures are running through her own head. You know she too gets lost in moments. And you know she knows that you know it, yet it is so early. So so early. And it's too early to say things like, you are going to be breathtaking beautiful with laugh lines on your forty-five year-old face, love.

So instead you catch each other getting lost and you acknowledge the habit and then you move on.

"So, yoga?" Arizona asks, that insanely cute grin still on her face.

You nod. "Yoga."

She drapes an arm over your shoulder as she again presses herself flat against your back. Her hand comes up to cup your chin and positions your face so you are back to staring straight ahead.

"Relax, Calliope."

You breathe in as you follow the deep and slow breaths her body makes behind you.

"Good," she says. Arizona runs her hands down your neck and then down your arms, her touch is not feather light like it is when she's trying to turn you on. Right now it's firm as her hands grip at your flesh, pushing and applying pressure to your muscles as she works her way over your shirt clad ribs. But then she hits bare skin and you're a goner.

You draw in a quick breath as her palms slip under your t-shit and run a path along your abdomen.

"Slower." She speaks her command for your breathing into your ear. She grips your upper torso. "From here. Breathe from here."

You feel your diaphragm expand and your ribs stretch underneath her hands and it takes all your concentration to breathe in and out, even breathes. But _god dammit_ she's resting her chin against your shoulder, cementing her body even closer to yours. You draw a big breath in through your nose. You can do this.

"Better." She assess your breathing as if she is not aware of your both semi naked bodies. She moves her hands as if she is going to actually touch your breasts but instead they change direction and move down, grip the hem of your shirt and pull it up off your body.

You barely have time to register that you are now only clad in your boy short panties when she steps back up to you and you can feel her now bare chest sliding against your back.

"Arizona." Your body tingles with the intensity of her hot skin against yours.

"Hm?" She again runs her hands down your arms, along your sides and squeezes your hips.

You continue the conversation. "You feel good." You run your own hands behind you so that you grip her own thighs. You curse her still-there yoga pants.

"Good. That's good," she says. Arizona slides her hands off your body and takes your hands into hers. She drags them up and over your head, tangling your fingers together. She presses the entire length of her arms along yours and you can feel her breasts squeeze against your shoulder blades as her body strengthens to the new position.

Once your arms are fully extended above your head she pushes your palms flat so that your hands are in a prayer position with hers clasped over yours. Arizona applies pressure to your hands, silently instructing you to use your biceps in order to keep your palms firmly cemented together.

She then drags her hands down the undersides of your arms, spiraling heat into your cells. With open palms she kinda slaps past your hips again and you hear her slide her own pants off. When she steps up into you again, the backs of your thighs feel the strong muscles in her legs.

You notice that your breathing now matches hers— deep, long and continuous. She puts one foot next to yours, on the inside. The other she places next to your other foot but on the outside. She rubs your outer thighs, kneading them as the two of you mold together. She moves your arms so that they extend out to the sides. Your hands are rotated so that palms are up as she shifts your hips so they angle diagonally with your torso. You feel her own hips shift with yours and she runs her hands up and down your spine.

"Do you feel your hips stretching?"

"Umm."

Arizona. What you feel is Arizona.

"Good."

She then runs her hands over the tops of your extended arms. "Resist." Arizona pushes her arms downward and you push back. The heat of the effort runs along your shoulders and she hums at your participation.

"Good. Relax." You do.

"Resist." You do.

"Relax. And breathe." You do that too.

She clasps her fingers to yours, pulling them all into a soft fist. Then she rotates them so that sometimes one arm reaches out, the other up. One pulling back lightly against the natural curve of your shoulder, the other straight in front of you. When she angles her hips and torso, yours follow suit.

And every single time she shifts, her nipples drag against your back making you get closer and closer to spinning around, quitting yoga and going down on her.

"Ready to do some floor work?" she asks.

"Umm. Not really."

"What? Why? More stretching?"

"No, none of that either." You turn your face so you are looking over your shoulder at her.

"Is this making you mad? I told you to relax." You love how her voice is all full of concern.

"No, I'm not mad. But I will be if I can't do _this,_" you move your still clasped hands so that her arms fold over your body, running her hands up and under your own breasts. "And I don't think _this," y_ou once again cup her hands over your breasts, "is a yoga move."

"Hm."

You feel her hands move without your encouragement. Finally you drop your arms, reach back and make circles on her thighs as she continues to squeeze and massage your breasts.

"Yeah. Definitely not a yoga position," she says. And then she flicks her thumbs over your nipples.

"Fuck."

She does it again. You curse yet again.

"You're wearing too many clothes, _sweetheart_." You pull back on the string of her bikini panties and then let it snap back against her hip.

She chuckles lightly and then moves her hands to slide them off her legs. When she returns and leans against you, you moan at the contact.

"Better?" she asks. You can hear the cocky grin on her face even through her voice.

"Much."

Arizona grinds herself softly, ever so lightly, against your ass.

"Mmm. I agree." Her voice is now low. Really low and full of so many dirty thoughts.

"Now I'm wearing too many clothes," you say.

Again she laughs, her sounds landing on the back of your neck. She gives your shoulder a hot open-mouthed kiss, running her tongue along it. Then she again runs her perfect hands down your body until she drags your panties down your legs.

"I agree. Much better." She says it as you kick the material away.

You hum your approval as her fingernails drag along the inside of your thighs. And then she tells you this, "Your stance should be wider."

She slides her own legs apart and you immediately mimic her.

"Like that?" you ask, your own hands find her thighs from behind you, gripping, while your voice is full of need and heat.

She hums her approval back at you. "Just like that."

Arizona runs the flat of her palm across you right where your body is giving off the most heat. Then with one hand gripping your hip, she dips her fingers and drags them through your folds. And finally, finally she is touching you.

"Worked up quite a sweat down there, didn't you?"

It feels so fucking fantastic that all you do is moan at the contact and avoid her snarky comment. Arizona in turn avoids your clit. Finally she pushes her pointer finger inside of you and with just that one finger she softly and almost sloppily slips in and out of you.

"_Fuck_, Arizona."

She swirls her finger inside, hitting all the most sensitive spots along your walls. But with this light pressure that is quickly becoming nowhere near enough. When you beg her for another finger, she hums against your neck, the warmth of her voice making you shudder. Finally she complies. Slips a second finger into you and starts to grind against you.

And you're close, the slow and light build-up has you practically there already. She is fucking you with hard and deadly accurate strokes now. So close, so fucking good. God, god, god.

Arizona pulls out of you and steps away from your body.

_What?_

You make to turn around but she holds your hips, her wet fingers making your skin jump, and forces you to stay looking ahead.

"You really need to learn to relax, Calliope."

"It's a little difficult when you—"

Your voice drops off when you notice her getting onto her knees and sliding in between your legs. Your body lurches from disappointment and rage at the loss of contact to a new fever pitch of anticipation.

"Bend." She touches behind your own knees and you groan at the hotness of it all and start to lower yourself. She leans up and supports herself with hands planted on the floor as she stretches her back so she can lick you, once. She almost loses you then but she pulls back, lies flat on her back and keeps pulling at your knees.

"Bend more, _sweetheart_," Arizona says. She uses your earlier term of endearment and you catch the predatory look on her face as you follow her instructions.

Again you can't help but growl at what she is about to do. She helps you lower yourself until you are on your knees, right above her mouth. She looks at you, licks her lips and then pulls you firmly so you are sitting on her face.

"Perfect."

You gasp at her single worded sentence. Her voice is low, throaty, full of need. It turns you on knowing she is getting almost as much of a kick out of this as you are.

And then she starts to lick against you as your body considers passing out from the sensations. Finally Arizona butches up because you are already too far gone to try and beg or put your need into a remotely understandable sentence. That's when she pushes her tongue inside of you.

"God, that feels—oh so— _fuck_ so good."

Her bright blue eyes lock with yours as her mouth pleasures you until you are riding her tongue. Watching Arizona splayed out underneath you, her hands tugging at your hips and thighs in order to tongue you deeper and the image of you bucking over her face finally forces you to tilt your neck back in delight and you eventually lose eye contact with her.

When she works you back up to where you were, her arm comes to wrap itself around you thigh and then her fingers makes tight circles on your clit.

_Arizona is a fucking goddess—_ this is the last thought you have before you explode into her mouth.

She continues to work you with her tongue until you come once again. Arizona then drags her mouth all over you as you continue to shake, your thighs clutching at her face.

"Oh wow. So good. So good. So good." You gasp it out as your body settles down. You shift back and lay on top of her, kissing her and moaning at your taste.

"Arizona, that was—" She sucks on your tongue, cutting you off and making you wonder how her very talented tongue has any strength left at all right now.

She still hasn't said anything and you wonder how wound up her own body is right about now. "I taste good, don't I?" You laugh it into her mouth and she only kisses you harder.

Then she pulls back.

"I love that you say things like that," she says.

You kiss her jaw line. "Am I wrong?"

"Not at all." She barely breathes it out as her body jerks when you run your tongue along her neck. You laugh softly because it is obvious Arizona will crash hard when you do finally touch her. It drives your own desire back to spiking with the idea that Arizona gets off on making you come.

You continue to tease her. "Should I not say things like that?"

You push your hand in between your bodies and lightly brush her clit.

"No. No." She moans again and mixes in a few of her own expletives when you explore how wet she is. She then takes in a breath as if to finish her thought before she gets lost in your touch. "You should definitely always say things like that."

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

If you had to explain it this is how you would do so.

Sleep. Really deep, dead to the world, sleep. The sleep you feel deep inside your bones even as you crawl onto bed, slide the covers up so that you can settle in between the smooth, cold, clean, oh so perfect sheets. Depending on the climate the top blanket either gets tucked swiftly around you, up against your chin or discarded down at the foot of the bed. On these nights it's just the sheet that whispers on top of your body. Nothing feels as good as collapsing onto the bed, your muscles immediately relaxing so that you sink deeper still into the mattress. Your eyelids loosely close and it's one deep breath before you drift into dreamland.

And you're excited. Sleep is like the drug your body wants to soak in, allow to filter through your system, never wake up from. It's always nights like these, nights where your brain shuts off all the chatter that usually zips in that it happens. It starts with that delightful half sleep state where only really content wonderful thoughts sift through your mind. It's the place where the girl you've been in love with tells you she loves you too. It's where your father, whose approval you crave, finally tells you, well done. It's where you thrive and strive at becoming a successful pediatric surgeon. Recently it's where Timothy as a boy, no dark future looming near, tags your shoulder and then takes off with you at his heels, laughter catching the breeze.

Eventually you slide into a deeper sleep, dreaming things that don't make much sense or that your consciousness can't hold onto. But that before, where you are so so aware and hopeful, that's what you're talking about here.

But then your half dreams turn into stairs or a dramatic drop of sorts and suddenly and oh so quickly you're falling. And your actual stomach, not your dream stomach, drops and slams you into full awake-ness.

You know it's coming, all along you know it's coming, yet the before is so very wonderful that you'll keep coming back for more. You'll force yourself time and time again to forget about the downfall all the way up until it happens yet again. And again and again.

This is your Calliope.

The only word you know to describe how you feel with her is bliss. You are in bliss. You are blissed out. Blissfulness in your new playground.

She, as a person, soothes you, comforts you, makes you want to shout out just how damn happy you are. You want to tell her things, constantly. You want to know everything about her and you even want to experience difficult times because how can you be her rock, how can you feel everything about her without experiencing all the range of emotions. You want to float in everything she as a person has to offer. You want to build a life with this woman and yet the next two years loom closer. Your inevitable separation creeps up and no matter how much you tell yourself, no matter how loud you shout— you know without a doubt that it will be shocking when you both slam back into reality.

And so you put it off.

You teach her yoga. She attempts to teach you how to harmonize. Your conversations swing from talking about childhood memories to favorite pantie brands to what three things you'd bring with you if your house or African hut caught on fire. From what SPF you prefer your sunblock to be, favorite dessert, dream vacation, worst way to die. Did your parents ever hit you, what kind of child were you, the most important quality for two people to have in order for a marriage to work.

From things you miss most about America.

Wi-Fi. Her.

Pound cake. You

To things you love most about Botswana.

The work to be done soon. Her.

The idea that you might, even after Timothy, be okay. You.

Africa and Callie have brought you back to life, in a sense. You don't want yourself to become too dependent on her. You've always been a firm believer of leaning on someone without drowning them in return. Your rational and self-protective brain reminds you that you and Callie will not make it if you are dependent on her to be your healthy happy self. And so you climb out that window every morning and you haul yourself onto that roof. You stretch your body out on the slates and you allow Botswana to breathe the life back into you. You struggle to piece yourself back together, determined that growing up and discovering who you are will lead you to a place where no matter what downfalls come your way, you will be able to say— you, Arizona, will not lose pieces of yourself.

And yet you can feel your personal happiness settling on her existence in your life. And often you catch a look in her eyes that says she feels the same thing. You still feel her flinch when you unexpectedly reach for her hand. You watch her sometimes as she watches you, her thoughts almost screaming out loud that this is dangerous. Loving someone this soon, this completely, is not what Callie Torres is use to. And neither are you but the difference is she has never considered it before.

You wonder what happened to make Callie Torres so closed off to letting people know her. You wonder what it is you did that made her trust you.

Last night was the first night that the two of you didn't tangle your bodies together in order to drag out a much needed orgasm from the other. It was also the first night where you labeled what the two of you are.

And in all fairness, if you let yourself go there, it was the first night where you let yourself think— _I could be one of those people who gets exactly what I want in life_. Because for the first time, exactly what you want, is right in front of you.

Not that those thoughts of togetherness hadn't trickled in since you acknowledged your feelings for her. They had. But this was the difference. Last night was the first night your body wasn't screaming for hers, this time it was her, all of her that you craved. You don't want it to sound as if you hadn't seen deeper, you had. But this was not a passing or trickling in of togetherness, this thought— the thought of growing old with her— lingered. It soaked into your skin.

You wonder what your future life could be. You wonder what it would feel like knowing she will always be there, never having to acknowledge that thought of separation.

Your father always said this one thing to you when you were growing up. _Go back to the basics._ Sometimes it had to do with a task, a new skill, a class that you were taking or a relationship that had you struggling— _go back to the basics._ Meaning: don't elaborate until your foundation is solid. Your father probably never imagined that his words would come hurling back towards you across the world every time you laid eyes on the tall raven haired Latina that occupies most of your thoughts. But they do. You always struggled with his advice, you were always anxious to be better, do greater, even before you had mastered those basics. And it always, always, came back to bite you in the ass. But now you get it. Calliope is your foundation, your base. With her in your life, expanding, growing, doing more, seems to be constantly at your fingertips because at the end of the day, there she is. Loving Callie is your basics.

And you can't help but always be smiling at the possibilities. You've always been optimistic. You've always seen the world with a permanent rainbow fixed on its horizon. Timothy's death was really the first time you ever experienced or even let pain and sorrow take over. But even before, in all that constant sunshine, you never expected to get this lucky. Sure, you always told yourself that one day, you'd meet her. One day. One day. You never thought that at just barely over twenty you'd find her. You never thought that you'd be allowed to imagine that you could spend the majority of your life with her. You never thought you'd meet her this soon.

So you smile but you also curse the timing. Timothy was so close, a few more months and he wouldn't have missed her. You haven't told Callie yet but your nightmares have changed since being with her. No longer is Timothy lying on a beach, your hands trying to cure his wounds. Now, it's endless futures that won't happen. It's him and Calliope talking, laughing at each other's jokes. It's him casually calling her his sister. It's him weaved into your life, watching you and her grow into each other. It's him pulling you in for a hug, telling you— you did good sis. And then your dreams remember that Timothy will never see her, never meet her, never take in that huge smile that her presence creates on your face.

And it hurts because he's missing it, already and he's missing it.

It was late last night when the two of you were on your backs— shoulders, sides, hips, and thighs lined up next to each other. One foot looped around the others and she held your hand, fingers clasped and resting on her stomach.

_"Am I your girlfriend, Arizona?" _

_It had been quite for a while and you wonder how long she's been thinking it. It makes you smile, her asking that while you are lost in imagining your future together. You turn your head to the side to look at her._

_"What do you mean? I mean, of course you are— right?"_

_She squeezes your hand, tilting her own head towards you._

_"Yes. I was just thinking that we never said anything. And when Addie and I were in line for lunch, she asked how my girlfriend was and I didn't bat an eye. But now— well I just wanted to make sure is all. It's just, this is new for me. I'm new at this."_

_"Are we having the exclusive conversation right now?" You giggle into her shoulder._

_"I guess we are." She laughs back and then her laugh dies sharply in her throat. "Oh my god, were we not exclusive before? Have you been—"_

_You cut her off. "Callie. Stop talking." You turn your whole body so that you are propped up on your side. "When would I have had time to hunt down and seduce another gay girl?" You tease her with your tone._

_"That Laura chick sure seems to compliment you a lot," Callie says, huffing it at you and you can't help but laugh again._

_"Does she?" Callie only raises her eyebrows at your question. "Is it the complements on my Setswana or the compliments on my first aid skills that bother you the most?" you ask._

_"It was the blatant compliment at lunch the other day about your and I quote, piercing blue eyes, end quote."_

_"Hm. I'll give you that one." You nudge her because jealous Callie is adorable._

_She then turns on her side to match you. "Arizona, have I ever told you that I often get lost in your piercing blue eyes?" And it's funny but she is serious and instead of laughing, you edge closer and kiss her._

_"You haven't but I've noticed. And I've only noticed because most of the time I'm lost in yours too, love."_

_"We should be making each other nauseous right about now, hm?"_

_This time you do laugh because she's so very right._

_And that's the other thing. The two of you flirt around the I love yous like no other. You call her love and when she passes you notes during class, which is so third grade and adorable, she always signs them— love, Cal._

_But you are just now having the exclusive convo, the I love you forever one, may need to wait. And then yet again, reality slams into your face._

_"It's been a month, you know," you say._

_"And only another left." She picks up your train of thought effortlessly._

_"Should we talk about it?"_

_"We could but I don't know what we'd say."_

_"Besides the, in a month, I'll never see you again?"_

_Callie pauses after you say that and then she really looks at you. "I don't know about you, Arizona, but never again doesn't really float through my options right now. Two years, that—that hurts enough."_

_And you are so grateful for your brave brave Calliope for saying that first. "So you'd wait? Cause, I'd wait?" You can't help but be cautious and ask it like a question._

_She smiles at you now and then sighs in part sadness and part relief. You know because it's exactly how you feel too._

_"Yes, Arizona. I'd wait."_

_The two of you take a moment to just scan the other's face trying desperately to pull some safety from each other's features._

_"So we're waiting." This time it does not come out as a question._

_Callie wraps an arm around your waist, drawing you closer._

_"We're waiting."_

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

A week later your partial assignment comes in. The locations won't be disclosed until a few days ahead of time but the nature of your commitment is given earlier in order to provide time for specific training.

The five of you sit comfortably, lounged out in your desk chairs as the instructor makes his way around to the small groups of volunteers. When he reaches your group, Addison and Arizona stop their conversation and Teddy sits up in her chair. You pull your nose out of your book and slap Mark's thigh so that he at least opens his eyes and pretends to look like he's paying attention.

"Alright. We have Sloan, Montgomery, Robbins, Altman, and Torres here, right?"

You all nod your heads as Addison verbally confirms for the group.

"Okay. Remember this is just a general assignment. Your initial tasks will be confirmed when you get placed. Altman, you've been assigned to education. Montgomery and Torres, you'll be assigned to youth and community development—specifically health, HIV and AIDS education. Sloan, you'll be working in the food security sector and Robbins, let's see," he pauses, shuffling through his papers. "Oh, yes. We don't get a lot of you Hopkins graduates, especially not ones who have turned down as many prestigious medical school invitations as you have. We're grouping you in the health sector but with some individualized hands-on medical training. Phlebotomy training and the like. It's not an assignment we hand out often. For now though you'll train with the HIV and AIDS initiative group."

"Food security? I have no experience in that, let alone know what it means," Mark says while you try desperately to locate Arizona's turned away face.

_Hopkins? Med. school?_

"Well son, it looks like you didn't have a lot of experience in anything else." The instructor pats Mark's shoulder sympathetically. "Clean water in a lot of these parts is the first step. You'll learn fast."

Mark huffs as the instructor heads away from the group.

"Impressive resume, Arizona." Addison makes her friendly comment and before you can ask Arizona what is going on because the girl never once mentioned medical school, she's fleeing the scene.

"Excuse me. Mr. Levitt?" Your eyes watch her as she follows the instructor back up to his desk.

"Arizona, it's Gary."

"Right, Gary— sir. Can I talk to you about my assignment?"

"Sure. It's not one we give out often but your involvement in the medical community throughout your education is quite impressive."

She drops her head and you watch her blink back some unshed tears. "Actually, I'd prefer to be reassigned, sir."

"Reassigned? We don't do reassignments, Robbins. Do you understand what kind of training we're promising you?"

"Yes, I do. It's very kind for you to believe in my abilities sir—"

"We're not taking a risk on you Arizona. Your MCAT scores did that for us," Gary says.

"I'd really prefer to be in another field sir. Anything, really. I'm not pursuing medicine anymore. I have quite an extensive background in tutoring though. And I've been volunteering in the pediatric wing at my university's hospital for five years now. I'm good with kids. I know I'd make a good addition to the education team."

You can hear the pleading in her voice from across the room.

"Robbins, we change your assignment and other volunteers will think they can whine their way out of theirs."

"I understand that sir, really I do. But this is important. I just don't want to agree to anything that may waver my ability to fulfill my two year commitment."

Arizona crosses her arms in front of her chest and if it weren't for the tears practically spilling down her face, it would be a clear confrontation.

"Did Blue Eyes just threaten our team leader with leaving?" Mark leans over as if he is going to continue talking. You hush him and turn your attention back to Arizona's conversation.

You watch as the instructor takes in her face, dread and fear all over her features.

"I'll talk to the team and see about a switch. But are you sure? This kind of assignment won't come around again."

She breathes out a sigh of relief. "I am. I'm excited to fulfill my commitment in another way. I am, really I am."

"Okay. For now, go with the HIV and AIDS initiative group, as everyone needs basic training in that area. I'll see about reassigning you to education but Arizona, keep your mouth shut."

She smiles at him, giving him a grateful look. "I will. Thank you, sir. Thank you."

She turns back to your group and you watch her take in the four confused faces looking at her. Arizona makes a sharp turn towards the bathrooms and avoids you all together.

"I'm gonna go," you look at your friends who are obviously as out of the loop as you, "take care of that." You grab your purse and sling Arizona's satchel over your shoulder and follow in the direction of the bathroom.

You pull open the door to the restroom and quickly scan the floor of the stalls. You don't see any feet, but you know she's there by Arizona's lousy attempt at silent sobs. You hear her gasping as she tries to control her volume. You aren't sure if she's aware that you followed her so you step back to the main door and flip the lock so that you won't be interrupted.

You approach the stall she is obviously barricaded in and knock softly on the door. "Arizona, talk to me."

You can hear her startle from inside and then you hear her wipe at her face as if to erase the tear stained evidence.

"Callie?" Her voice is weak with just a little bit of fake strength at the end of your name.

"Ah. Yeah." You aren't sure why she's pretending that you didn't just witness her conversation and then follow her in here because she's upset.

"Is it lunch time? Cause I'll just meet you there," Arizona says.

"Arizona." Your voice is soft and you're concerned. You want her to drop the act with you.

"Um, yeah?"

"Open the door."

"I'm peeing, Callie." Her tone juxtaposes your soft one.

"Okay." You say it softly and then drop to the floor and position yourself cross-legged right against her stall door. "I'll just wait here tell you're done."

You give her a moment of silence before you hear the lock of her stall click open and the door swings inside. You lose your backrest and almost tumble onto the floor.

You stand up and haul yourself into the space and then close the door again. She is sitting on the pipes above the toilet, her sneakers resting on the closed lid. You pick her feet up a little so that you can sit down and then set her shoes on your jean clad thighs so that you are facing her.

Arizona is chewing on her lip; her eyes flutter from your face to her hands in her lap then back to your face. You rest your chin on her knees, setting the purses on the floor and signaling that you are in no rush.

A few moments pass before she starts to talk.

"Sorry about that."

You look up so that you can hold her gaze, tilting your head with a slight frown on your face. "I'm not even sure what that was, love. But you haven't done anything wrong."

"I know. I just. I wanted to tell you about the med. school stuff but it didn't seem relevant. And I don't want you thinking I'm keeping secrets from you or anything," she says.

You lower your chin back to her knees but continue looking at her. "It would be pretty boring if I already knew everything about you, huh?"

"I get that." Arizona leans back against the wall and tilts her head back against the tiles. "It's just. Well you've been so upfront about well, well not knowing what you want to do for a career. And I normally would have a lot to contribute to our conversations. Especially when you talk about your degree. You've been so honest and I just didn't want to go there."

"I'm not honest," you say. Arizona looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. It's the first hint of emotion rather than the numbness that consumes her present face. You take it as a good sign. "No, not at all," you continue. "I mean did I ever tell you that I…never had the chicken pox as a kid. Nope, somehow I detoured out of that. Or that I get awfully sick and I mean awfully sick as in projectile vomiting when I know I have to speak in public."

She laughs softly at that. "Those are little things, Callie."

"Hmm. How about the fact that the last time I really and I mean really talked to my mom about anything more then where I'm going or when I'll be home was when she confronted me after a friend of hers saw me kissing a girl in the grocery store. I tried to explain the whole bisexual thing, but it didn't go so well. And then the last thing she said to me was how she would never see me in heaven."

Arizona bends towards her own body, her eyes intently locking with yours, pain swallowing her face. She cups your chin in her hands and brushes a thumb over your check bone.

"You never told me that. I'm so sorry."

"Me too." You smile sadly at her as you remember the pain of your mother's beliefs.

"Or how about the fact that I've thought about med. school too. I mean, I even ordered some MCAT study guides but I never opened them because everyone I know at home would laugh at that."

"Why?"

"Arizona. The girl you know here, here in Botswana, is nothing like the girl I pretend to be at home. Everyone was shocked that I graduated not only with a degree in Biology but with a 4.0 GPA. Most of my friends truly believe I fucked my way through my courses."

"Hm." Arizona considers that for a moment. "Okay I get it. We don't know everything about each other."

"We don't. But I'd like to know about why you turned down what sounded like multiple medical school acceptances."

She gives you a slow sad smile and then her face returns to normal as she leans back against the wall.

"Harvard, Penn, Columbia, St. Louis, Stanford, Boston, Duke, and..." She pauses to tilt her face back a little more so not to let the tears spill down her face. "And Hopkins accepted me into their programs. I had gotten the letter for Hopkins three days before my mom called me to say that Timothy was killed. And I, ah." Arizona's throat contracts as she gulps down a breath of air. "I just never got to tell him and I really wanted to. I just really wanted him to know." She looks down at you and this time the tears do spill out and onto her face. "They said he wasn't killed on impact. They said that there weren't enough doctors in the area to get to everyone in time. I just can't. I can't. I can't dedicate my life to learning the skills that would have saved his life. I just can't talk about it because I know if I talk too long with someone, I'll convince myself to go back and I can't. I can't go back."

She shakes her head to try and clear her vision as she pleads with you. You pull her knees closer to you and wrap your arms around her legs.

"Okay. I get it Arizona. We don't have to talk about it now or ever. I know I didn't know him and maybe I have no right to say this but the boy and man you've told me about? He strikes me as the type of person who didn't accept regrets. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to have any either."

She climbs down from the pipes after that and straddles your lap as she rests her head on your shoulder.

"Thank you for listening, Calliope."

You hug her closer, tighter, and then your mind floats back to the fact that you've been given your partial assignments and that three more weeks is a very short time.


	11. Chapter 11

_-ARIZONA POV-_

It's been a quiet morning. When you woke up your body automatically shifted into its usual routine except this morning nothing was the same. Everything you did was tainted with the thought that this was the last time you would do it.

You find yourself in your usual morning spot on top of the roof. You pull your legs into your chest, one arm resting on top of your knees, the other hand flicking the last ash of your very last American cigarette that you brought with you. You watch the morning sun rise just like you always do. When you stretch out onto your back it's painful. In the mornings when your body is stiff from sleep and often last night's activities, you find comfort in letting your muscles relax as your back straightens out. This morning you can't make yourself do it. Your whole back ripples with the idea of relaxation but you're too anxious, too wound up, too everything to give into the deep breath that will bring you comfort.

You sit up and smash your cigarette out before hoping down, intent on pulling yourself back into your room. You spot her before she sees or hears you. It makes you pause because Calliope Torres never wakes up on her own. She's on her knees, on the floor, on the side of the bed so that her back is to you. Her arms are folded, head bent, forehead resting on sheets.

You sit down inside the open window, your legs inside the room, your upper body not. The sun hits her hair and kinda sends her into a glow. Your eyes roam over the slope of her neck and down her strong back, her shoulder blades are visible because of the tank top she has on.

Callie sits back on her heels, still not aware of your presence and tilts her head back and that's when you remember. Some mornings you remember perfectly and immediately. Other mornings it takes something to jog your memory. Most mornings you just sing her the first song that hits your brain, hoping your choice will make her laugh and haul her ass out of bed. But this morning you remember. You remember because you did not have a nightmare last night and yet her song still kinda floated into you in the middle of the night.

You press your lips together and start to hum. She doesn't flinch nor does she turn to look at you. Instead she just tilts her head to the side as if she's really taking it in. You hum a little more towards her back before you decided you know enough of the words to make a go at it.

_Oh sweet thing, sweet thing_

_My, my, my, my, my sweet thing_

_And I will raise my hand up_

_Into the night time sky_

_And count the stars_

_That's shining in your eye_

_Just to wonder_

_That's just fine _

Callie slowly turns her head and watches you. When she shifts so that her back is against the bed, still on the floor but at least facing you, you leave your perch and go and settle yourself into her lap. You sing until you can't remember more and she barely misses a beat before picking up the rest for you.

And this is what you love. You have no idea why Callie wastes her voice on you when you are asleep. If you sounded like her you would never talk, never. You would just sing. All the time. Never talk. Just sing.

_And I'll be satisfied_

_Not to read in between the line_

_And I will walk and talk_

_In gardens all wet with rain_

_And I will never, ever, ever, ever_

_Grow so old again_

Your body settles, finally, and you rest your head on her shoulder as her arms make a loose circle around your torso.

_Oh sweet thing, sweet thing_

_Sugar-baby with your champagne eyes_

_And your saint-like smile_

The last note kinda hangs in the air as you both collapse into the silence. A few minutes pass as you just allow yourself to force this moment into your memory.

"Van Morrison has got nothing on you."

Callie laughs at your compliment. "Your humming has always left me in awe."

You laugh too. "Maybe I'll be a professional hummer when I grow up," you say.

"I bet we would rock at one of those games where you have to hum songs and then guess."

"Ha. I bet we would."

Again you fall into the easy silence, neither of you acknowledging what today is.

"Were you praying before I hummed at you?" you ask her.

"I guess so," she says. Callie tilts her face so that it is closer to yours, your cheeks touching. "Sometimes I pray."

"What were you praying about?" Your tone is soft, cautious, respectful if she declines the sharing.

"Mostly about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Your safety."

"I'll be fine Callie and we don't know for sure how far we'll be placed."

"I know," Callie sighs. "I just hate that I won't be in your bed to make sure you're safe."

You go silent at that and then tilt your head up so you can kiss her on the cheek.

"Did you pray for your own safety?" you ask.

"Hm. I didn't but remember Arizona, I'm a badass. Plus I still have my mace."

You laugh at that.

"But maybe you should pray for it just in case." You peek at her from under your bangs, indicating that you are serious.

"Okay."

You give her a long moment of silence before you look over your shoulder at her.

"Did you do it?"

"What? Right now? No. I was just sitting here. Did you?"

"Me? No! I thought you were!"

Callie's deep laughter starts, breaking free and spreading all over you.

"Callie, stop laughing. Start praying. Out loud. So I can make sure you're doing it right."

Your girlfriend only laughs more, her whole body shaking as she wraps her arms tighter around you. She pulls on you so your back collapses even further against her chest, but her laughing body is making you shake. Girl is not being serious.

"Callie!"

"Okay. Okay. I'm ready." She tries to steady her voice but her laughter just starts right back up. "This conversation is ridiculous."

"Fine! I'll do it," you announce. "And your safety is not ridiculous." Her laughter quiets down for a brief moment. You clear your throat and then you start. "Dear Jesus."

Callie explodes behind you and you nudge your elbow into her stomach but you keep your head resting against her neck, tucked right underneath her chin. A smile splashes across your face. And then you continue. "I know it's been a while since we last had a chat."

Callie's laughter has quieted but her body gives her away and you decide to ignore the shaking.

"Before I just jump in here and ask you for stuff, I'll start with what I'm thankful for," you say.

Callie makes a loud crack-up from her throat and tries to stifle her volume in your curls.

"First, I am thankful for that pink bicycle that my parents gave me for my eleventh birthday. I believe that's the last time we talked. I know, I know. I've been bending my head at my parent's dinner table all those years after but honestly I was usually thinking about how I could snag the big piece of chicken before Tim did. I apologize for that."

You feel Callie's laughing breath in your hair. You get that it's semi-funny, but girl is laughing like you aren't at all serious. "Also, please forgive my Calliope here for her disrespectful laughing during our correspondence."

Callie falls silent behind you, but you would bet a lot if you turned to look at her she'd be grinning like crazy.

"Second, I'm also thankful for that time the mailman launched his newspaper at my apartment door last year, waking me up when I was already late for my final. Thank you for not letting my failed alarm do me in," you continue.

You are getting into a good rhythm now but Callie has gone back to cracking up like there is no tomorrow.

"Thank you for letting my brother have a beautiful life even though it was short." You can feel Callie wrap her arms around you tighter, her laughter gone as she kisses your head.

"Thank you for sending Calliope to Botswana no matter how much her past behavior has been ungodly in your eyes."

"Hey!" Callie removes her face from your hair and perches it on your shoulder. You hold up a finger to silence her but then turn your face real quick and peck her on the lips.

"Thank you for sending me to Botswana no matter how pissed I was at you at the time. That was nice."

Callie giggles softly behind you. "You talk to God like he's your pal," she says.

You turn again to look over your shoulder. "Isn't he?" You shoot your eyes up, wondering for the first time in your life if maybe all people don't pray like you.

"Some might see it as disrespectful." Callie shrugs, clarifying with the motion that she does not share that opinion.

You really pause here and consider her words. Then you turn back to God. "I'm sorry if my praying is offensive, Jesus. Forgive me for I have sinned."

Now Callie really loses it. Her laughter is almost louder than your praying voice.

"Hey! I thought that was a Catholic thing! I'm trying to get you into your element here, Calliope."

She laughs some more and then kisses your shoulder. "Continue."

"Please be with Calliope here over the next two years. Watch over her even when she thinks she is too much of a badass for your help. Make her humble." You again nudge her in the ribs indicating that you are only half joking. "Protect her and bring her back to me. I'll be waiting. Kindly make sure she waits too."

"Hey! Now you're insulting me!"

"Just covering my bases. And Jesus, help her know that she is loved. Help her know that she can do whatever it is her heart wants. Help her believe in herself and help her learn, as Timothy would say, to have no regrets. Be with her, keep her safe. Watch over her until I can come back and help you out with that. Amen."

Callie is now silent and you turn to look at her, shifting in her lap so you can see her comfortably.

"Now that part wasn't funny." She smiles at you, indicating her appreciation of your words. "That part wasn't funny at all."

You lean in and kiss her; the two of you linger at it for a while. She breathes against your lips.

"We still have a shot, right? We could get placed near each other," Callie whispers.

You close your eyes and kiss her again. "Yeah. We have a shot."

You lie to her because you need to hear it. Finally you pull back and slide out of her lap. You tug her up by the hand and everything goes back to how it always is. Except it isn't.

Nothing is the same.

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

"Alright everyone, listen up. We're going to get started." The team leader's voice rings out to the group.

Arizona squeezes your hand, the pair of them dangling in-between the space between your chairs. The group of volunteers are sitting in a large half circle with the leaders standing up front. You want to glance over at her, but you can't. Your heart is going too fast to consider anything other than making sure you don't have a stroke.

"I know a lot of you have plans with your host families, saying your goodbyes and such. So after you get your assignments you'll receive your packets and then you are free to go. Your departure time will vary according to how far you're traveling. But expect it to be early morning. Your individual packets will let you know what time you should be here with all your stuff. Some of you will be transporting together, parting when you get to your assignments. Go over your packets. They contain more details on your assignment; remember you'll get the full run down once you reach your destination. They also contain a reminder of our policies and rules. Each of you will also have a list of emergency contacts. Remember what you've learned and remember everything you do represents your organization, your country, and yourself."

The group gives a light applause as Gary steps down. Another leader stands up.

"Alright! Everyone reach under your chairs to retrieve your order."

There is a scamper of movement from everyone in the room. You feel Arizona's hand tug against yours as she reaches under her chair to peel off a note card. You can't make your body move.

"Cal?" Addison who's on your other side elbows you. "Here." She hands you your note card from under your chair. You grab it and then flip it over.

_22_

You try to remember how many volunteers there are. You think there are exactly 22 of you. You look over at Arizona who has hers on her lap.

_9_

The ceremony starts with the person who has one. It's that Laura chick that is constantly crushing on your girlfriend. She stands and walks to the front while you send another prayer up to not only let you and Arizona be placed near each other but for this Laura girl be placed far, far away.

The team leader hands her an envelope that has her name on it. You watch her take out a sheet of paper and read to the group her general assignment and then she pauses before breaking into a huge grin as she reads her destination. She picks up the pin that's inside the envelope with her name on it and crosses to the map to stick her pin where she'll be.

And it goes by like this. You briefly recognize that Teddy is the first to go from your group. She get's placed in the large town Letlhakane of the Central District.

And then all too quickly it's Arizona's turn. She squeezes your hand and then you feel her fingers unclasp from yours. She stands and makes her way towards the front where she gives Gary, the team leader, a small smile. He hands her an envelope and nods his head to her.

She turns towards the group and makes brief eye contact with you. You remind yourself to breathe but then completely forget about doing so as she tears open the envelope. Arizona reads out her education assignment, she pauses here and glances at you briefly. You nod your head at her, a smile in your eyes. You could kiss Gary right now for making that change.

Then she continues. _The Vaalhoekit village in the Kgalagadi District. _

You scrunch your face up in confusion trying to remember where exactly Vaalhoekit is. Arizona looks at Gary with confusion on her face as well. He laughs and points his finger to a spot on the map. Vaalhoekit lies southwest of Tsabong in the most southern district of Botswana.

The group quietly laughs as they all discover just where this tiny village is. Arizona sticks her pin in the spot and then comes back to sit next to you, immediately taking your hand in hers.

Eventually Addison goes and she gets placed in one of the larger HIV/AIDS initiative groups at a central hospital. You watch her put her pin not too far from Teddy's pin. You smile because that will be nice for them to get to meet up on weekends and stuff. The facility Addison has been placed in is pretty modern. Addison of course thinks the same.

"Oh, thank God. I'll have somewhere to plug in my blow dryer," she says, the whole group cracking up as Addison tosses her hair and walks back to her seat. You smack her on the thigh because these people think she's serious. And you get that having a blow dryer would be nice but you know Addie and she's one of the best get up and go and take advantage of life, kinda girls. Sure, she likes to look put together but she doesn't have to.

The remaining volunteers dwindle and you are hopeful. Nobody else has been placed where Arizona is. The Laura chick is the closest volunteer from her, but she's still quite some distance. A lot of you will be placed somewhere where you are meeting up with already established volunteers or some form of group that is already working on the task you've been assigned. Often volunteers are sent in pairs. At the same time it is quite possible to be placed somewhere where you will be the only American. However, the fact that no other volunteer has been placed near Arizona means you still have a shot.

Mark goes and he is placed in a small village only about an hour bus ride from Addison, a little more than that from Teddy.

And suddenly it is your turn. You look around at everyone else. They all have their assignments in their hands and you realize that you are indeed the last one.

You stand, drop Arizona's hand and walk to the front. Gary hands you the envelope with your name printed on it.

You stare at your name. _Calliope I. Torres. _Your hands start to shake as you flip the envelope over. Pull it apart. Pull out the contents. Read the print. And then. And then your heart sinks. You blink your eyes to make sure you are reading it correctly.

And you can't look at her. You can feel her eyes begging you to make contact but you can't.

"Callie Torres," you read what's on the paper. "Youth and Community Development. HIV and AIDS Relief Initiative. The Bobonong village in the Central District."

You feel your hand moving back to the envelope to grab your pin. You turn around, your back to Arizona and the group. You couldn't look at her face right now even if you were forced. You give yourself a moment to compose yourself before lifting your hand. You stick your pin into the map, right in the exact same spot as Addison.

Your eyes roam the distance between your pin and Arizona's. It's huge. Gaping. Almost as far apart as you can get from someone and still be in the same country. All Arizona would have to do is fall over a twig and she'd be in South Africa.

And just like that reality wins.

* * *

**A/N: And just like that, well you knew it was coming. But the drama that will ensue! Come on, it can't all be handed to them. Fight for love, right? Just wanted to thank readers for sticking with the story. I'm quite enjoying the process of getting to go back through this thing. And in case you care, I split this chapter because it was gosh so long. Next segment already half way edited. Let me know what you're feeling about it so far! And the next few chapters bring up some semi-uncomfortable themes so be sure to read the disclaimers beforehand. Thanks! **


	12. Chapter 12

_-ARIZONA POV-_

_Three months later_

* * *

"Morning," you call, pulling your bedroom door shut behind you and stepping into the sparse kitchen where Rayhanul is sitting, eating her breakfast.

"Morning California."

You smile at her nickname for you, having given up weeks ago trying to explain to her that not all Americans are from California. But the young girl, only a few years older than you, could care less. When you first met she had gone through the pleasantries before almost immediately digging into the good stuff.

"So have you ever been to Hollywood?" she had asked.

"Um…yeah. I lived in Southern California briefly during the sixth grade."

"Do you know any movie stars?"

You had laughed at that. "No. Although I do think I saw Bon Jovi once at LAX."

She had gasped aloud, her eyes going wide. "You know Bon Jovi?"

You had giggled some more before shrugging your shoulders. "Oh yeah, Bon Jovi and I go way back."

Apparently Rayhanul didn't get your sarcasm and from there on out she thought you came from Hollywood and partied it up with rock legends all the time.

You're sure your blonde hair and blue eyes don't help the California confusion so you go with it. But if you had to choose a nickname for yourself, you would prefer it not be another god damn state.

"Are you really eating leftovers from dinner last night?" You shake your head at the twenty-something girl and then sit down next to her before digging into the dish she has out.

"Whatever."

You smile to yourself at Ray's use of American slang. Ray is from Vaalhoekit but left to go to University a few years ago. She's back now and the two of you seem to be single-handedly running the primary school that opened only six months ago. There is so much to do but you are glad that you have Ray who helps with the cultural barriers. The two of you have already accomplished a lot in the last three months.

The population of Vaalhoekit is only 346— 347 now that you're here. You have about 60 kids enrolled in the school. You and Ray are the only teachers, a few other community members help out with administrative stuff. There's a team of young men who help when you need someone to drive to a larger town to pick up supplies.

But basically this is a two woman show. If this tanks you both go down with it. And there are bumps. Lots of bumps. Like when you got here you found that there were only enough desks for half the students. You decided your first class would be wood-shop and with the help of the community, and really they knew more about building things than you did, every student had their own desk by the end of the week.

You and Ray take turns with the classes. Right now they are separated by age into three groups. You have the five to seven-year-olds in one group. Eight to ten in another and eleven and twelve in the last. Anyone older and whose family can afford to have them not at home commutes to the next town where there is a secondary school, similar to an American high school.

At first Ray was confused when you arrived and demanded that the students be split up by age. She figured the school would be similar to what she had growing up, everyone who showed up was in one big group. And getting kids to show up was not a small issue.

You refused to budge and within five weeks the system was semi-ironed out. Last month, for the entire month, every single student enrolled showed up for all 22 days of class. Ray had just looked at you when you both went over enrollment.

"Well I guess you know what you're doing California," she had commented.

You had giggled at the numbers. "Ray, you're bright. Obviously. Do you remember what it was like when you were in primary school?"

"Yeah. Boring. It got old having to sit there while the babies learned their numbers."

"Exactly. In a few months, I'd like to start another group. Honors."

"Don't push it California."

"You'll see."

Now, sitting at the table with Ray, you scrap the last of your dinner/now breakfast into your mouth, flash her a smile, and tell her it is time to go.

The two of you grab your bags and make the ten-minute walk to the school. The people you pass by wave their hands in friendly gestures. You wave back, use to the attention at this point. They kinda see you as a god here. The American schoolteacher. At first they gave you a wide berth as if you weren't there. When you complained about it to Ray she told you it was a sign of respect.

From there on out she hooked her arm through your elbow whenever you went out and eventually the village came to accept you as one of their own. Or as close to it as can be expected. Still though it blows your mind every time you are invited to someone's home and they put you in the seat of honor for dinner. You cringe at the fact that you and Ray share a small, modest dwelling that is still far superior to anyone else's. But you are learning to go with it.

The two of you reach the school, unlocking the two classrooms that the kids revolve between. You go to unlock the small office the two of you share, grabbing your lesson plans for the day.

"You're doing the art class with the little ones, first thing right?" you ask.

"Yep. The older ones will be with you for three hours before the middle ones get in. Then the little ones have playtime while we break down between History and Science. Thank god you get science."

You laugh at that. "Thank god you know the history of Africa or I'd really be screwed."

"Then it's English for the rest of the day, the older ones have that field trip planned to observe and help out with the new sewer system that is going in."

"Sounds good."

"Hey California?"

"Yeah?" You pull out the textbooks you'll need for the day along with the giant packets you had your mom ship you from the States. You organize them into piles for you and piles for Ray.

"We're close right? I mean you've told me all about America and university and even your brother. And I've told you about my life, but you avoid conversations about boyfriends like the plague. What's that about?"

"Um. I don't know. Just never met anyone special yet, I guess." You look up at her briefly, seeing if she'll buy it. You've been trying to read her vibe since you met her unsure how she'll respond to your sexuality.

"Hm." She picks up her stack and flips through it absentmindedly before opening the cabinet that houses all the art supplies. "Someone really did a number on you, huh?"

You sigh, knowing Ray won't drop it and you want to tell her. God knows you could use someone to talk to about Calliope.

"Okay, there is someone. But they're in another part of Botswana."

"I knew it!" She slams the cabinet shut and comes to sit on the desk. "Another volunteer?"

"Yeah." You chew your lip in nervousness.

"Is he cute?"

You take a deep breath and just decide to go for it. If they decide to stone you over it, you'll just have to go with that too.

"Yes. She. _She's_ cute."

Your sentence hangs in the air between the two of you. Ray's face goes from startled to confused but then finally she breaks into a grin.

"So you're gay?"

You take a breath and commit. "Yeah."

"Well then tell me about her!"

And just like that you want to hug her. You guess the girl got a little more cultured at her university then you expected.

"You won't say anything? I mean I don't know how others would respond."

"I'm not stupid California. I may get it. I may have a bigger mind than others but you're the best teacher we've ever had. I'm not letting some closed-minded villagers shut you down over this. Lips sealed. Now, the girl?"

Ray kinda claps her hands as her legs swing freely from the desk. You smile at her and bless her tolerance.

You lean back in your chair, checking your watch to see that you have some time.

"Her name is Callie and she's American. She's so kind and beautiful and she makes me feel— better. You know? She makes me want to be better."

Ray kinda melts at that. "Oh, that's so sweet. Wait? What? Her name is Callie?"

You look at her confused. "Yeah, Callie. It's short for Calliope."

"As in Callie and Cali?"

It takes you a second to figure out what she's referring to. "Ray! My actual name isn't California. So nobody but you and now this village calls me that. One of the kids the other day actually called me Miss California. I felt like I was in a freakin beauty pageant."

"Miss California. That's awesome," Ray laughs.

You giggle more at her and how she's picked up your vocabulary.

"Still though Callie and Cali is confusing," she continues.

You roll your eyes at her.

"So why haven't I met her?"

"She's placed in the Central District. Exactly 720 miles from here, a full day of traveling if nothing broke down," you say.

"So?"

"So? Have you seen a moment since I've been here where we've had more than 24 hours off from work?"

"Hm. I'll work on that."

"Wait. What?"

"You need some time. I could give you some time off. Just give me a few days to see what I can do."

You look up at this girl who might just possibly be your new best friend. She pushes her bangles up her forearm before hopping off the desk. "You ready? Kids will be here in a few."

You stand, grab your stack of papers and then set them down before pulling her into a fierce hug. "Thank you."

She hugs you back, patting your shoulders as she laughs. "Don't thank me yet."

And with that you both go out to welcome the kids. An image of Calliope floats through your brain. Your hand slips into your satchel pocket where both of her letters are located. You caress the well-read paper, wishing there was a way you could talk to her. Callie has cell phone service where she is but here, in the middle of absolutely nowhere, you don't.

And then before you can get lost in missing her. Before you can get lost in thinking about seeing her, the kids arrive.

You squat down as a group of seven year olds run at you. You pull them into hard hugs letting their energy and excitement for learning distract you from your heart.

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

* * *

"Addison, the van's here. Get your ass rolling!" You shout at her knowing she still won't hear you but then a miracle happens and you hear her blow dryer being cut.

"What?" Addison shouts

"The van is here. Let's go!"

Thirty seconds later and Addison is bounding down the hall towards you. You grab your keys and hold the door open as she breezes by.

"Joe! I didn't know it would be you driving us. If I had, I would have been on time," Addison's voice rings out as you close up the house. You roll your eyes as Addison claims the front seat, sliding yourself into the back to make sure everything you need is back there. Joe here, so not his actual name, but what Addison insists on calling him, just smiles back at her. He's not much of a conversationalist.

When Joe pulls up in front of the orphanage almost an hour later you lean up to the front and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Joe. Mind if you give us just a few minutes?"

He nods no problem and slides out of his seat, shutting the car door behind him. Addie shifts in her seat so that the two of you can kinda look at each other. You watch her take a deep breath, blowing her bangs off her forehead.

"Okay, this one's going to be hard." You say it because it's true.

"Yes." Addison gives you a small sad smile before trying to wipe off the look of sadness that is about to wash over her face. "Okay." She slaps her knees with her palms. "What's the demographic?"

You nod back at her, taking some of her strength for yourself. You pull out a large envelope that has what you're looking for.

"Young. This orphanage currently has 30 kids, so smaller group." You scan the sheet for the numbers Addison is asking for. "All of them have been orphaned because of AIDS or HIV. Most of them are between the ages of three and ten."

You pause to look up at your friend. She is staring at her hands, a calm demeanor attempting to claim her features. You know as soon as the two of you step from this car the fearless brave face that she's been sporting the last three months will slide into view. It's only these quiet moments before assignments and occasionally when the two of you get home after work that she allows herself to feel the grief. In those moments when she sobs into her hands and you tug her in for a hug, you thank god that Arizona is not here. You let healthy, happy, excited to learn children, fill your imagination when you think of Arizona and her work. Not that she wouldn't be brilliant with the children you and Addison are constantly treating and educating about HIV. She would. But her sadness, the natural sadness that anyone feels in these situations, would kill you if you had to watch her experience it.

"How many are sick themselves?" Addison asks.

You look back down at the paper, swallowing your own sadness and find what Addison is asking. This group of orphans have been left behind from parents who died of AIDS. They don't have family members who are able or willing to take them in and so they ended up here. Most of them have been separated from siblings and a great deal were neglected for years as their parents grappled with their own disease. Some are sick themselves.

"18 of them."

She nods at that and you continue. "Objective today is strictly education. General awareness on disease for everyone. Nutritional education, although that makes no sense as doesn't the orphanage feed them. God! They're acting like these children are adults."

"Callie." Addison's tone tries to calm you before you lose it. This is not the first time you've expressed your disagreement with the protocol for these visits. But today you don't feel like reeling it in. Today you feel like giving a shit and stating the fact, loud and clear, that what these children need most, if it can't be a loving and safe home, is a loving and safe moment.

"No. That's, that's not what these kids need!" you shout. "They don't need another god-damn lecture about how not to touch anyone's blood. The ones who are already sick don't need a lecture on eating properly when only a few years ago they watched their parents die from this same, awful disease." You ball the sheet of paper up in your hands and hurl it as hard as paper can be thrown against the car door. You try to control your breathing but all you really want to do right now is punch a wall.

"Breathe." Addison steps over the center console so she's sitting next to you in the back. She runs a hand up and down your spine. "You can do this Cal. We can do it. It needs to be done."

"I can't. I can't." You feel the emotion welling up behind your eyes; you squeeze them shut to try and block their descent. "I mean they're children and it isn't fair. I'm angry all the time now. All the time, Addie. I am disgusted with my old life back home. It was so fucking wasteful. And I can't look at another dying or going to be dead one day, kid. It's too much. I'm not an angry person Addison, but now. I'm, I'm. I'm angry all the time. At me, at the world, at God— because this, this is not okay."

"I know. I know." She curls her arm protectively around your shoulders as you sob, tears landing in your lap. "Callie. I know this is a lot. Trust me, I know."

A new wave of tears spring from your lids. "Addie, I miss her." It comes out a whisper.

"I know that too."

"I mean I could do this if she were here. It would still be sad but it would be doable, you know? Which is dumb. I mean really how long did I even know the girl. Three months. It's ridiculous to feel this way."

"Callie. Stop," Addison interrupts you. "I let you say a lot of stupid things but I won't let you say that, especially not after I promised Arizona."

"Wait, what? You talked to her?"

"Before she left, yeah. You know, when she could barely make eye-contact with any of us since we were all placed so close to each other and she's on the opposite side of Botswana. Yeah we talked."

"About me?"

"Yeah about you."

"What did she say?" You peak through your long bangs at Addison.

"She asked me to promise her that I wouldn't let you doubt yourself. Or her. Or the two of you. Which you've been pretty good about up until now."

You let Addison's words soak into you. You can't help but smile at how the girl you're in love with could predict your doubts before you even separated.

"Okay?" Addison squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

"Okay."

"What do you say we change the order of things today?"

You look at Addison with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Let's let the kids do the talking. Let's see what they want to talk about. Let's see what we can do to listen. We could give it a shot?"

A small smile creeps onto your face as you wipe away the last of your tears. "Okay."

And with that the two of you enter the orphanage. And it's overwhelming like always. But this time something is slightly different and it's in a five-year old boy and the way he's watching you as you walk around and talk to the kids, that things change. You ask one of the directors of the orphanage who he is.

"Jakit came to us last year," the director tells you. "He doesn't interact with anyone, he rarely shows any interest in strangers."

"Why does he watch me?" you ask.

"I don't know," she responds, distracted. "His mother was originally from Spain, died when he was three. His father died of AIDS last year. We have a photograph of her, the mother. There's a resemblance." And then she's being pulled away and in another direction.

A few hours later you sit on the floor as Addison pulls out art supplies. Your approach today would not at all be approved by Peace Corps. but you can see the smiles the kids have on their faces. The games you've been playing have lit up their same-to-same, day-to-day lives. You're about to go help Addie when Jakit walks up to you. He taps you on the shoulder.

"I know you're not my Mama, but you look like her. She use to sing. Do you sing?"

You stare into the sad face of an alone boy. You catch the glimpse of tiny hope behind his eyes. It looks like maybe there hasn't been any of that in his eyes for a really long time.

And that's what you do. You sing to the kids who don't have mothers to sing to them anymore. And after that Jakit decides he wants to tell you and anyone else who will listen as much as he remembers about his Mama. And you know it won't make the boy's life any easier. You know he will still be haunted for his forever. But you also know this.

You listened. And maybe that made it a little bit better.

And you sang. And maybe that made it a lot better.

Oh, how you sang.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

_Another three months after that_

* * *

You slam the door of your room. Hard. So hard that you can hear it rock on its hinges.

"Fuck," you shout.

You circle your tiny room in fast laps trying to get your energy out. It doesn't work so you throw your work clothes off your body and grab a pair of shorts. You yank on your sports bra and a t-shirt before slamming your feet into running shoes.

You glance out your window and gauge that you still have two hours before the sky even begins to darken. Four until it's nightfall.

"I'm going out!" You shout in the general direction of Ray's room before heading outside.

As soon as your feet hit the road, you take off. You start with a slow jog, but that doesn't last long. Soon you're sprinting. There's a small river about half a mile outside of the dwelling area of your village and you find yourself running along it. Sometimes your feet hit rocky roads, other times it's pavement. Even the long grassy sections don't slow down your pace. You pass a small herd of camels, lift a brief hand at the men who are controlling them.

And you run. And run.

You can feel your chest burning as you push on. Your legs stretch out in long strides so that you can feel your thigh muscles reacting. Slowly your head starts to sort itself out so that you can at least have a conversation with yourself.

It's been two months with no contact from Callie. It's been six months since training. Communication is slow but not _this_ slow. You've sent her three letters since her last one. No response. Every Monday you race home after work and search for Yaone, the man who acts as the village mailman. He commutes to a bigger city over the weekend and always picks up local mail.

Nothing. Every Monday it's nothing.

Your mind tells you to calm down. That everything is okay. That she's busy. That she's wrapped up in her job. But your heart screams that something is wrong. For the past month you've been dragged out of your nightmares by your own screaming. Callie, always it's Callie. Ray managed to get you two days off from work, which linked with the weekend would have given you time to get to the Central District. But then a fierce sand storm hit the area and it became impossible to travel, let alone catch a ride with anyone.

And it's not like you can just get out by yourself. It wouldn't be safe to travel alone and only few people from this village or even the next make that drive regularly. It's infuriating. Twice now Ray has dragged you back from the road that you decided to walk on to get to Callie.

The school is doing wonderful. Everything is semi-smooth but your heart isn't in it because you can feel that she's in need of you.

And then a thought that's been nagging you for the last three weeks, seeps in. And this time you can't talk yourself down from it, this time your body responds by changing direction and running towards the school. When you get there, it's empty, of course. And you don't have your keys so you scale the yard's fence until you are standing on the soccer field. You take off towards the office, hoping nobody decides to walk by the school this evening.

You locate the spare key Ray suggested you bury in case you ever lost the main set. It takes you ten minutes to remember what patch of dirt by your door you buried it. Finally your fingers claw against the silver key and you throw open the office door and step inside. You light the lantern that acts as a lamp and the office is thrown into a soft glow. You know this is wrong. It's for emergencies only. It is also the only phone in the entire village and them deciding the school should have it, is not something to be taken lightly. You and Ray have only used it twice to locate lost supply deliveries. Two other times it was used for accidents that occurred out in the fields. To use the phone for a non-academic reason was a decision that required three people's approval. Hillmic, the oldest man in the town and who serves as an advisor when it comes to major decisions. Trejon, the son of Lep, who as far as you can see serves as the town mayor. And apparently, yourself. The white schoolteacher who brought with her a phone. Using the phone is a last resort and it's expensive. You do not have the approval.

In this moment you don't care. You open the case it's in, that's attached to the wall and pray for acceptable reception. Your trembling fingers go through all the steps before it's finally asking you to dial her cell phone number. Your heart lurches as you hear the other end of the line ring. Once, twice, three times.

"Hello?"

It's her voice, you think.

"Callie? It's me."

"Arizona?" She pauses too long before saying your name. "How are you calling?"

"I broke into the school phone. I haven't heard from you. I got scared. Are you okay?"

"Me?" Her voice is flat. It almost doesn't sound like her.

"Yes you."

Your heart is now officially freaking out.

"I'm okay." Her voice suggests otherwise. Everything she's saying right now alerts you to the fact that something is wrong.

"You don't sound okay, Calliope." Again the pause is long. "Callie?"

"I'm here."

And now you're sobbing, trying not to be too loud into the phone. "Sweetheart talk to me, tell me what's going on."

You can hear her sigh on the other end and you hope for a moment that she'll let you in.

"I have to go."

"What? No wait! Callie! Is Addison there? Put her on the phone for me."

"Addison is in Mahalapye. She's meeting with one of the old team leaders."

"Why? Why is she there?" This is not getting any better. "Callie, talk to me." And now you're shouting at her. Willing her through the sharpness of your voice to give you answers.

"I have to go now."

"Wait! Where in Mahalapye is Addison?"

"I think at the other training facility. I'm not really sure."

"How long will she be there?"

"Arizona, I don't know." She sounds exhausted. Like she's been sleeping for weeks and could sleep for three more. Part of her sounds dead.

"Callie, listen to me!"

"I can't. I'm so tired."

You can feel yourself losing her. "Callie, wait! Don't hang up. Callie!" But the dial tone is already ringing in your ear.

"Fuck!" You slam the phone back into its cradle. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

She sounds sick or you don't know what. And Addison is clearly in Mahalapye because of her. And just like that you don't care about your job or your commitment or Ray or this wonderful school. And you're back over that fence and hurling yourself towards home. Mahalapye is only an eight hour drive from here. You could be there by morning.

You rip through your room, throwing your cell phone that doesn't work here, your wallet, a map, and a bottle of water into a bag. You scribble a note to Ray, apologizing, and take off towards Yaone's house. He's the only man who lives in the village and owns a truck. You knock loudly on his door and when he comes to answer his face is full of concern at your appearance.

You somehow convince him to lend you the truck. You push off his offer to go with you. Putting his family without a car for a few days is bad enough, taking him away would be unforgivable. You pull out an envelope from your purse, 200 dollars of American money is inside. You hand it to him, knowing he won't accept it if he has time to see the small fortune you just gave him. You grab the keys from his other hand, launch yourself into the truck and take off.

And you're trembling the entire time. It gets dark and then it gets darker. You lock your doors and drive faster. You consult your map to make sure you are still heading in the right direction. Sometimes you are on a dirt road, others times just flattened grass from where previous cars have driven. When you hit larger towns the roads are slightly better. Sometimes you are just driving on gravel. You thank god that the truck seems to be able to handle it.

You stop only once in a large town that has actual electricity so that you feel somewhat safe stopping at a gas station by yourself. You pay the man to fill you up and pay him extra to give you two large canisters of gas that you secure in the back of the truck bed.

Your stomach is empty and it seems to bounce off the insides of your torso. You can't even consider eating and you take gulps of water in order to prevent yourself from falling asleep. But you are wired. Your body screams with panic as you replay Callie's voice over and over.

The sun creeps up just as you pull into Mahalapye. After three tries you find someone who knows where the training facility is. You locate it and slam the truck in a makeshift parking lot before running towards the doors. It's locked and it's early.

"Come on!" You pull at the doors and they only buckle at your efforts before remaining firmly shut.

You scramble through your purse until you find your cell phone. You hit the power button and it comes to life. You dial Addison's number and almost cry when you hear it ringing.

"Arizona?"

"Addie. Where are you? Are you here in Mahalapye?"

"What? Yes, I'm here. Are you here?"

"Yes! I called Calliope last night, oh my god Addison what's going on? She said you were here. Is she sick?"

"Where in Mahalapye are you?" Addison's voice does not soothe you. It only lets you know that Callie is not well.

"I'm at the training center!" You shout it out as the sobbing starts.

"Fuck! I'm already on a bus back to Central. We just left!"

"Get off that bus. Tell me how to find you."

"You have a car?"

"Addison!"

You hear her shouting at the driver in Setswana to stop the bus. You hear her tell him that she'll play him to pull over. Two minutes later she turns back to her phone. You're already back in the truck with the engine fired up when your cell phone beeps that it's running out of battery.

"Where are you?" You yell at her to tell you.

"Twenty miles north on the main road. In the middle of freakin nowhere. Get here, now."

"Thank you, thank you." And with that your phone dies and you step on the gas. You spin out of the city and get to the main road in record time. Fifteen minutes in, you start looking for her. You roll down your window as you notice the engine is starting to overheat.

"Dammit! Don't do this to me!" you shout, pounding on the dashboard.

"Arizona!" You hear your name come in through the window. You spin your neck around to see Addison waving her hands at you, a few yards behind. You spin the truck around and get back to her. You throw the truck into park, shut it down and leap from the seat.

"What's going on?" You shout it at her as the tears again spring out of your eyes, running dirty tracks down your face. "Tell me!"

Addison pulls you into a fierce hug. "I wanted to call you. But I didn't know how. She told me she had written to you but then the other day I found a letter from you that clearly implied she wasn't writing back."

You pull back and grip her shoulders. "What's going on?"

"Callie." Addison gulps as her own tears well up. "She. Two months ago Callie was assaulted."

Everything you know disappears. Everything you've done, the person you once were no longer exists.

"It wasn't good Arizona. She, her body—it wasn't good. They kept her at the hospital for a few weeks but she refused to let them send word to her parents. She refuses to leave, to go home to the States. She doesn't talk anymore. She doesn't work and the organization is ignoring it. They want to send her home, get rid of her but she refuses. She's been put on every decent drug I can force someone to give me in order to give her the best shot of not getting infected."

You are lost. You are drowning. You can literally feel your organs shutting down as Addison talks.

"He had AIDS?" You gasp it out in between the sobs that are racking your body. Addison supports you as you start to collapse.

"We don't know. Nobody knows who it was or they won't say, I don't know."

And just like that you slip. Your whole world stops. Nothing is what it was. You can feel the blackness seeping in and you fight against it. You fight for Callie, you fight to get back to her but it's _so_ strong. The darkness grips you, forces you under, and then— you are nowhere.

* * *

**A/N: Disclaimer for further chapters. This story will never go into the specifics of Callie's assault, but it will be an over-arching theme that continues to be present for the rest of the story. Callie is changed and the story spends a great deal of time diving into her mind-space as she attempts recovery. It also focuses on Arizona's struggle as she stands by Callie. It is not something that is resolved and then never mentioned again. I don't believe trauma work of any form is isolated like that. As a survivor myself, I've attempted to write these next few chapters with as much truth as possible. However, every survivor's story of recovery is different and I in no way mean to imply that Callie's experience is that of every woman who has ever been assaulted. This is just one story. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I've decided to break the next few chapters down into several parts so that I can edit and post them more quickly. Please read disclaimers from last chapter before continuing. **

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

* * *

Right now it would be story perfect if it went like this.

When you go down everything becomes really still. Really silent, maybe just some nice piano music in the background. It's also really white. Blinding white, everything. The perfect hue of white light that sets off features in a really beautiful way. There's a clarity effect, an emerging of understanding. People return from wherever they've been and they have a look. A look that says, I've seen more.

Maybe you're confusing the endings.

Maybe this really only happens when you're dying, the white light and all. But you don't know what it feels like to die. All you know is how you feel right now. And how you feel right now is somewhat similar to when your mother's voice cracked over the telephone to tell you about Timothy. Except that Timothy _was_ dead and there was nothing you could do about it. Callie is not dead, but her road back?

You imagine it will be fierce.

You wonder if Timothy saw that damn light everyone seems so keen on reporting. He would have hated that, to go out in a way that was so very cliché. You hope for his sake that white light and angel wings are a goddamn lie. Maybe something green, lush, tropical even. He would have liked that. Rolling hills, lots of trees, water in the air.

So since _you_ are officially _not_ dying, you're actually not in any physical danger whatsoever, your story should actually go more like this.

Maybe no white light, but definitely a highlight reel of sorts. Past moments, possibly future ones. Like that time Callie sang to you in the wildflowers. That was the first time you really looked at her. Or maybe that time she helped you up into Mark's stolen truck. That was the first time you really thought about the idea of togetherness. Maybe that time she grinned at you over Baruti's head. That was the first time you thought of a future with her. A flash of her with her lazy morning smile for the rest of your days. Or a sharp image of when the sun hits her face and she squints out a grin through her discomfort. Maybe a moment of her in her sleep, hair splayed out, limbs stretched.

But this isn't like that.

When you become fully aware you are inside the moving truck and you assume it must be Addison that is driving it. Clearly you've lost some time. Now that's starting to live up to standards. You squeeze your eyes shut a little more, will a memory to make an appearance.

You, Arizona, have been around a lot of grief. All the hours upon hours that you've been in hospitals— well you've seen your fair share of people's pain. And while always it was hard to watch, there still seemed to be a sense of beauty. Maybe it's just that it's beautiful from the outside. Watching from a distance as people overcome things, that's inspiring. Right now, you do not feel inspired. Right now, you do not see any beauty.

You give up. No white light. No beautiful music. No flashes of Calliope's face. No sense of becoming stronger. Nothing. There is just you and the truck as it bumps along the road on the way back to Mahalapye. You curl into the seat with your knees tucked up and you turn your face so it's pressed against the early morning window. You can feel Addison eyeing you from the driver's seat. Your fist comes up to bang once on that windowpane.

You watch the training center you were just at slide into view. And maybe this is where it gets inspiring because then you do feel a natural shift as you pull yourself together. You feel the concern and protectiveness that people naturally have for themselves, change. You feel yourself realign into the person that Callie needs for however long she needs it. You wonder briefly if this is what love feels like. And then Addison snaps the engine off and the truck goes still.

"Alright tell me what's happening now?" you say, having only to clear your throat once for your question to come out clear.

She tells you how a group of locals worked through some back channels in order to get Callie the best preventive medications the country had to offer. She tells you how the people at the hospital, the people the two of them had been working with, are not letting this go without a fight. She tells you how everyone they trust has their eyes open. But that everyone they trust is not that large of a group.

She tells you then how when she left Callie three days ago she had already been on the phone with a lot of higher ups from the organization. It took her some time to be able to push through enough side doors in order to have them promise the most accurate HIV test on the market. When a week went by and nothing was delivered that's when she left for Mahalapye. It turned out that by the time Addison got there, Gary, the kind man who gave you the education assignment, was able to confirm that Bobonong had just received the test. Addison confirmed with people she trusted at the hospital that Callie had indeed just been brought in to have her blood drawn. The last she'd heard, Teddy and Mark were there with her and waiting for the results.

That was yesterday. You try to figure out where your conversation with Callie falls into the timeline. Just as you're about to ask how long those results will take, Addison's phone comes alive. She grabs it and snaps it open.

"Teddy?"

Your body freezes as you listen to the one-sided conversation.

"Oh my god. Say that again." You look at Addison's face, which is calm, intent on catching every word coming out of the phone and then she bursts into tears. She sobs out for Teddy to hold on and then turns to you.

"Her results just came in." Addison pulls in huge breath. "She's going to be fine."

You close your eyes and let her words wash over you as Addison turns back to the phone.

"No antibodies were found in her blood?— Who ran the test Teddy?— Good, no I trust him to have done it right— Okay— Where are you now?— We'll be there as soon as we can— Yes, we— No, she found me in Mahalapye— She's— Yeah, something like that— See you tonight if we can get transport— Thanks Teddy."

Addison ends the call and turns to you.

She explains things that you already know but you still hang on her words like a lifeline. It's been eight weeks so if Callie had contracted the virus it would almost certainly have shown up in the test. They'll run another in a few months to be on the safe side.

You feel that nothingness from earlier start to seep in again. You slam your body against the feeling, forcing yourself not to drown in it. But it's strong.

"Arizona? Arizona, are you listening to me?" Addison calls out to you as you yank open the door of the truck. "She's going to be fine." Addison shouts it at your back.

And yes, she's right. Callie is not sick but it will take a long time for her to be fine. You aren't even sure if after something like this it's even possible. You bend at the waist and hurl up all the water you've been downing the last twelve hours. Your body retches until there is literally nothing left for you to rid yourself of.

Addison jogs over to your side of the truck and runs a hand soothingly along your back until you're done. You straighten up and rinse your mouth out with the water she offers to you.

You fight against the nothingness feeling. Surprisingly, this time you win.

"Let's go!" you shout, heading off in the direction of the facility which you can now see has an open door.

"Arizona where are you going?" Addison runs to catch up with you.

"I need to talk to Gary."

"What are you going to talk to him about? He's done everything he can."

"Addison!" You spin around and stare at her. "Show me where his office is." You don't want to yell at her. She's been amazing. But she's moving _so_ slow, which isn't fair, she's not, but you need to get home to Calliope. Right now you would willingly punch out anyone standing in your way even if it is this redheaded dear friend of yours.

"Okay." Addison leads the way until you practically slam into her back when she stops in front of an office door inside the facility.

You pull the door open and find Gary behind a desk.

"Arizona." He looks at you like he's not shocked that you're here. "Did you two hear? I just heard." He glances at Addison who follows you into the office. "What a relief, huh?"

His tone is so casual and you feel Addison wrap a hand over your fist, which is clenched at your side. "Arizona." She says it under her breath, warning you not to permanently burn any bridges. But bridges have already burned down. She then raises her voice for him. "We heard."

"Arizona, how did you get here? Who's covering in Vaalhoekit for you?"

You take a breath knowing this is important. "That's what I need to talk to you about. I need you to reassign me to the Central District Hospital in the Bobonong."

"Arizona, dear. We've talked about this and we don't do reassignments. Besides you are needed in Vaalhoekit. I've heard you're doing wonderfully with the school there."

"Gary." Your voice is low and if you were him you would definitely hear it for what it is, threatening. "You will reassign me to a medical related position in Central. You will find someone to take over in Vaalhoekit immediately. You will get that truck out there," you jerk your thumb towards the direction of the parking lot, "back to a man named Yaone. And you will supply us with either a person to drive us back to Central immediately or a car for us to do it ourselves."

"Arizona." He at least has the decency to look a little nervous.

"I don't want to hear it, Gary." Your voice is oddly calm. Threatening tears are nonexistent. "If I'm not back in Central by this evening I will have the American press _all_ over this situation. I will take your organization so far down that you won't even have enough financial support to get yourself a plane ticket out of here. And I'm guessing this is not the first time something such as this has happened. I'll get every volunteer who has ever been close to even hearing about something like this so far up this organization's ass—" Your voice lingers and you hope Gary buys what you're saying.

You could cause a lot of problems. You could stir up a hot mess but shut them down? Probably not. Still you hope it's enough pressure.

"Arizona, these things take time," Gary says, looking at you. You hold his fucking stare.

"Let me be clear then," you growl. "I am not playing around here." You continue to look at him until finally he breaks eye-contact and nods his head.

"Okay," he concedes.

"How soon can you have a truck here?"

He picks up his phone and dials a number before he is talking in Setswana to someone on the other line.

"Two of our long-term volunteers are heading in that direction. They have a truck." He looks at you hoping this will pass. "They should be here in an hour."

"Now you take care of my dear friend's truck out there and get someone down to the village to help Ray, school is in session tomorrow. And Gary?"

He looks at you, his face slightly nervous but also slightly proud. You wonder how much pressure is being put on this man from up above.

"If at any time Calliope decides she wants to go home you'll have us both out of here in record time, got it?"

"Oh, of course. That's always been our policy. Anyone is free to leave at anytime."

"Good. And if she stays, I don't care how incomplete her assignment is, you let her stay."

And with that, you leave. Addison walks behind you, surprise all over her face. She finds a place for you to charge your phone and you actually see a man come by to repair Yaone's truck. By the time an hour hits, you and Addison are waiting on the curb and when the truck pulls up an older man and woman greet you.

You climb up into the back cab. The lady hands you each a hat to keep the dust out of your faces and then you are on the road. You watch the day stretch by until a tinge of night starts to hit.

You must be getting closer.

Addison only asks you twice if you want to talk about it. You look over at her, your knees bumping against each other's with each hill. You pull her into a fierce hug and you tell her how very grateful you are for her.

"So do you, want to talk about it?" she asks again.

You wrap your arms around your legs, pulling your knees into your chest. The night wind whips the loose strands of your ponytail back.

You must be getting closer.

"Not yet." Addison nods her head when you answer her. She leans back against the truck and you can see the exhaustion all over her face. "Not yet," you repeat.

You think you feel the truck slowing down and yes if you squint you can see a large populated area approaching.

You must be getting closer.

* * *

_3 hours later_

* * *

Addison opens the door of her and Callie's little two-bedroom house and steps inside. You follow her as she makes her way to the kitchen where a light is on. Teddy is sitting at the table, her head against her arms as it rests on the wood. Mark sits next to her with his feet propped up on another chair. He turns when you approach. He shakes Teddy slightly so that her eyes blink open as she wakes.

"Where is she?" you ask, looking at Teddy who tilts her head towards a closed bedroom door. Mark opens his mouth to say something. Maybe to ask Addison a question, maybe to give you a greeting, maybe to confirm something about the test earlier, whatever it is you don't hear it.

You tap lightly on her door and when you don't hear anything you pull it back and creep into the dark room. Your eyes adjust to the dark as you take in your surroundings. She's curled up on her bed but she's facing you and you can see that she has her eyes open.

"Callie." You say it because she is right there and you take a step towards her.

"Stop." Her voice comes out rough, harsh and you instantly stop your movements. "Don't do this to me again."

"Calliope, it's me. Arizona." Your voice is a whisper.

"I can't do this anymore," she says, pleads.

"Can't do what? Callie, I'm right here." Again you take a step closer to her.

"I said for you to stop." Her voice rings out at you as you search through the darkness for something more in her eyes.

"Callie, it's her. For real this time." Mark's voice is soft from behind you and you look towards him unsure of what he means.

"Don't lie to me, Mark." Her voice is even harsher as she shifts so that her back is to you both. You watch Mark cross to her and sit on the edge of her bed. He makes to move his hand, to touch her shoulder but his hand lingers in the air before he places it back in his lap.

"Callie, listen to me. Remember how you never told her and that's why she never came? And then she called you last night. Do you think Arizona wouldn't come as soon as she heard? Callie, come on—this is for real right now."

"It is?" Her voice is really soft, innocent, as she talks to Mark.

"Promise." He removes himself from the bed and makes room so she can see you.

You watch as she shifts up so that she's sitting, tangled in blankets and sheets. The light from the hallway starts to soak into the room and finally you can make her out. Your eyes hesitantly search her face and you're shocked to notice that she looks just like sleepy Calliope has always looked to you. Her face is just as it's always been. It's also been eight weeks— and before that thought can create an image in your head, you force it out. But then you really see her eyes and that's the giveaway. You can see the shadows passing every time she blinks.

"Arizona?"

For the first time her voice sounds like your Callie.

In an instant Mark is retreating back out the door as you walk past him and sit next to her.

"I'm right here sweetheart."

You wait for her to make first contact. She moves as if to be near you but then stops her movements as if she's changed her mind.

"I'm not going anywhere, you got that?" Your voice sounds more desperate than you intended but you need her to understand that. Right from the start, that has to be the one thing that she gets.

Callie's eyes, her dark eyes, flicker up to yours. You can feel the sadness in your own eyes staring back. You won't pretend for her, you won't. Yes, you'll hold on tight, if she lets you. Yes, you'll make sure she never feels alone again. Yes, you'll let her scream and shout and rage and cry when she gets there. But you won't pretend that this is okay. You won't lie to her by letting your eyes not be sad. She'll need strong, soon. But not tonight, not even tomorrow. When she needs those things, well that's up to Callie. And you aren't sure if you can really take it but you do know this—

You will try. You will be there. You will listen and you will commit yourself to helping this woman have the very best shot at regaining who she was. You know her. Callie is strong and you know yourself. You are strong too.

She closes her lids for a moment, like they're just too heavy to keep open or too exhausted or simply just too use to being shut. When she opens them they search yours and for a second you catch a hint of something rather than that giant void. She seeks out your sincerity until she finds it. This times she does complete her movement. And she leans in, falls against your chest and buries her face into your stomach.


	14. Chapter 14

_-CALLIE POV-_

* * *

You've been watching yourself these last eight weeks.

Maybe that's not the right word; you want to be clear. You're not watching yourself as in you, Callie, are in one place and then you, Callie, are in another, watching. There are definitely not two Callies walking around. This isn't some dream or an out of body experience with the watching _watching_ of yourself. Although if that were the case, well you'd probably understand that too. But that's not what's happening here.

Maybe that's the wrong way to explain it. Maybe you should say it like this.

You've been _comparing_ yourself these last eight weeks. Everything you do, which you admit is not a whole lot, is compared between the Callie of before and the Callie of now.

For instance, Addison made you sit outside, fresh air and all, for a whole hour last week. Your face was healed enough so that it wouldn't attract stares except it didn't stop you from staring back at the whole wide world. At one point a child, a small child, rode by on his bike. Your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to wipe out. Before _before_ your train of thought would have picked up a memory of your own glorious childhood. It would have brought a smile to your face as you sat there thinking about Miami and bikes, sunshine and your sister. If you'd seen that child on his wobbly bike nine weeks ago it would have brought not a memory of the past but a hope for the future. Your mind would have been flooded with little images of a one-day blonde haired, blue-eyed child. That fictitious child of yours would have teetered by, flashed a toothy grin, yelled at you and Arizona, her mommas, to watch! Watch closely!

Last week when you saw that child sway by all you could think was what you would have thought. But not in a way where you were actually thinking those things. It was more a realization that before you would have thought of Miami or before you would have thought of Arizona. It was the comparison of your now empty thoughts and the thoughts of the past. It's like you can remember how you use to think but you can't really connect to it at all. It's as if you have no more room for original anythings.

Which is a bummer because you and Arizona would have had such an original life.

And this is how it goes, which is shocking. Really shocking. Not at all what you would have expected. Not even at all what you did expect even as you were right in the middle of it.

You imagined that after your fists became ineffectual and your voice became hoarse that you would slip into nothingness. There would definitely be no room for comparisons between the person you are now and the person you were before.

You expected that after you summoned up the energy to drag yourself away and after you forced your brain to remember where your house was, that you'd shut down. And maybe it appears that you've shut down, but your mind zips through these little comparisons constantly, that much you know for sure.

You believed that once you pulled open the door of Addison's room and sank onto her floor, that you'd be done. Surely after you apologized for the mess you were making and the blood that was most certainly staining her carpet, surely then you could just stop existing.

After you shouted at her to pull her shit together and take you to the fucking hospital, you could officially bow out.

So that's why you're surprised. Because yes, you feel as if you're drowning and yes, you can't possibly imagine happy endings, but you are still shocked that you can think. Let alone move. Let alone act. Let alone anything. At all.

Maybe you're being dramatic.

But for you, you were certain that this was it. You never doubted you would make it out alive, your personality would not consider actual death as an option. But you did doubt your ability to function or appear to function, again. You doubted that you would ever be the girl you were before. And of course you can't be, you get that. But you doubted that you would ever be even able to string together a semi-involved person. You know, involved in relationships, involved in futures, involved really in just basic life.

And for eight weeks you hated it. You hated that your brain and your body were rebelling against you. You hated that you were watching yourself live, barely yes, but still you were alive. You even hated that when your face started to heal and your body started to recover, you no longer had proof of why you were destroyed. You couldn't point it out, you couldn't show others and say— this, this right here, this is why I'm broken. You still had the ability to talk, the ability to think, the ability to eat, the ability to sleep, the ability to remember. It didn't make sense. Certainty something like this should have the power to leave you a complete and utter shell. Comatose. Locked inside your mind, body frozen and unmoving. Not dead but well, dead.

And then she came.

And now, now you are grateful. Because even though you aren't really okay, the fact that you can register a reaction and put together a few words, sometimes even have the energy to sit on the porch and watch the road— all of that means you have a shot.

And you're sobbing into her stomach and you're waiting for her to place her arms around you, and you're thinking one thing. Long road. Long fucking road back. Possibly impossible. But.

Worth a try. Right here, holding you, she is worth the try. And not just her but how she makes you feel. Because that was the thing lacking these last eight weeks. Feelings.

It's almost like you forgot about them really. It was kinda like when you leave the house in a rush and you know you're forgetting something. You'll even swing back home, dash through the apartment, knowing you don't have everything you need. And of course you can't really remember what it is until you don't have it. It's hours later when you drive past the library and you realize it was the overdue books or you swing by your friend's house to feed the fish and you realize it was his key.

You were going along and you were doing that weird comparing thing and your body was betraying you by healing. And you were mad at your mind for still running. But you were forgetting something.

And then she pulls you into her lap and kinda rocks you like a child, and that is the ah ha moment. Arizona makes you feel. Right now, a whole lot of things. A lot of feelings that have nothing to do with her and then a whole lot of feelings that have everything to do with her.

Last week it would have been only another reminder that again you were surviving even without your own permission. Tonight, with Arizona, it's a lifeline. Everything kinda rushes in and it's overwhelming. You are certain that at some point, possibly tomorrow, you'll rebel against these feelings. You are certain that at some point, possibly tomorrow, you'll yell at her to leave you and all the things she brings up, _the fuck alone_.

You are certain that at some point you will shout at her to give up on you. You are also certain that it won't work. You've never been so certain of anyone's actions like this. Sure, there have been times in your life where you have a pretty good idea how someone will react but in the end it's all still chance. But right now, even as you consider the ups and downs and then the really big downs, you know she will stay put.

Maybe it's because you would stay put. And how could you possibly feel for someone the way you feel about her without her feeling the same way? Maybe it's naïve and maybe it's a risky thought. But you and Arizona, oh so naïve and oh so risky.

You and me, let's take a risk.

So you got distracted by that weird little limbo world where you knew you hadn't contacted her and yet you waited 57 nights for her to come. And then when she did walk in that door, even though you were somewhat expecting her, it was an odd combination of feelings. First there was the _fuck_, she's making me feel more like a person and you were so very certain that you feeling like that ever again, not likely. But then the _damns_ were replaced with a _yes_ because feeling like a person, even if it is only for a moment, means one thing. You have a chance.

You and me, let's take a risk.

There was a time when you told her you were in, all in if she was. Now you think it again. It's different this time. It's heavier. It's a lot less sunshine and rainbows but it's worth it.

Damn, is it worth it.

* * *

_-ARIZONA POV-_

* * *

The first two days Calliope follows you everywhere. Not that you go anywhere but she won't let you even go to the bathroom without her lingering outside the door. It's like she's making sure you stay put. When you take her for another physical at the hospital she insists you stay even though you can tell she doesn't really want you to see her. You sit next to her head and hold her hand while the doctor checks her out. You never let your sight stray past her neck and she holds onto your eyes with her own, begging you not to. You smile at her in moments where she tracks you with her eyes, letting her know that you are aware of her fears. It surprises you that the two of you have this silent communication thing going. Except not really. It's you and Callie after all.

On the third day you sit next to her on the little living room couch. You don't say anything because you are not in the business of rushing her but the seriousness that falls over your features probably says it anyways. It's been two days of hardly any talk. You eat your meals together; sometimes you push her to eat a little more then she initially does. You sit together for hours, sometimes doing nothing. Sometimes you read a book but your eyes constantly lift from the pages to find hers. Sometimes she listens to music and those are the times you see the pain almost leave her face.

You lay in bed at nights and sometimes during the day so she can nap and you just hold her. That first night your hand automatically shifted to her stomach when you both finally laid down to sleep. She flinched on you then and you retracted your hand as if you were burned. She turned slightly to look at you over her shoulder, gave you this really small sad smile, but still a smile. You are going to make mistakes and it's okay. But since then you've been cautious to hold her in a way that doesn't make her scared.

But really there hasn't been a lot of chat so when you sit down next to her on the third day, you know some things need to be said.

So you wait. You sit cross-legged but turned so that you are facing her. She's curled into a ball in the crook of the couch. You smile at her as you take in her face and you wait.

_No rush Calliope, but I'm here._ That's what you think.

"I don't know if I can do this," Callie says, responding to your silent thought. Her voice isn't as shattered as you were thinking it would be but it is hoarse since she's been almost mute the last two months.

"Me either," you tell her. You won't lie to her and pretend this is all about her. It is, but hearing whatever she has to say won't just be neutral for you and your heart.

"And no pressure, okay?" you continue. "Never. But no hiding either, don't you think? I mean maybe I don't know what I'm saying but it seems as if it would be best, at times, to push through to the talking, whatever it's about. I know with Timothy I thought not talking about it would be best. Maybe I could imagine he was still that strong, healthy boy away at war if I didn't say it. But then you happened." You can't help but smile at that. "And that voice of yours and that song kinda broke down the walls. So, I was thinking maybe you need a song too."

Maybe it's too early to be light with her, maybe it's too early to fall into some of your previous easy banter. But that's who you and Callie are. _Were_.

And then the most miraculous thing happens as of yet. She laughs. Really softly but still she laughs.

You hold your breath as she considers your words.

"Yes, please," she says.

"Alrighty." Your mind rushes, trying to come up with a song. "Way to put a girl on the spot."

She laughs again. This time it's a little stronger and she looks at you like, you're the one who brought it up.

"Right." You realize you're speaking to her silent thought. "Let's see." You are desperate to keep her in the light-ish mood she's in right now. "Okay."

You stand up and walk over to her iPod which is docked in the corner. You are hoping for some inspiration. You glance once over your shoulder at her sitting there all patiently. You go back to scanning the list. And then you find it.

It's not really a question of which song; it's more about finding a song you know all the words to. And this one you do. You sigh as you mumble, "I have no idea how singing became such a big part of our relationship." But then you hit the play on the device and the music starts to stream out.

You know Callie will have recognized the song even before you turn around. And when you do, the real smile on her face is enough to get you to give it your all.

And that's exactly what you do. You sing your little heart out to Marvin Gaye and the classic that is, _Ain't No Mountain High Enough._

You really start to get into it when the chorus hits and you are very aware of how lame and hilarious this must look. But Callie is looking at you like she might just explode in laughter and that's enough.

"This is so the first song you found that you knew the lyrics to!" She shouts it out over the music and you notice that she's talking above a whisper.

"Shut up! You love it," you shout back.

At one point you get really brave and attempt a little slide along the kitchen counter across from her. It ends up not being cool or remotely sexy but Callie giggles anyway. Besides, that's not the point, _actually_ it's exactly the point. And so now you are feeling like a singing legend and your confidence is unrealistically high as you belt out the last verse and slip into the chorus yet again.

And it's pretty appropriate. But you don't get hung up on the appropriate lyrics because then it looks like you are trying to make a point. And the only point you are really trying to make in this moment is that it's okay to laugh.

And laugh she does. Slightly reserved but there is noise definitely coming out of her throat. When you hit the last note you pretty non-gracefully land back on the couch next to her.

"I just rocked your world right now." You smile at her as you edge a little closer to her.

"Pretty much." She holds your gaze as you both grin at the other.

"Feel better?" you ask.

She laughs a little and then looks back at you. "No. But I do feel like maybe one day I will."

"It's a start. A fucking fantastic start if you ask me." Your tone still keeps the light banter but it also changes slightly to communicate that you are serious.

"Agreed."

You sit in silence for a bit as you settle back into your previous position next to her.

"We're gonna be okay, right?" Callie asks it just as you look back at her.

"Yes."

"I wasn't sure, at first," she admits, shiftting her legs so that one knee makes contact with yours. Her voice is this odd mixture of pain and strength. "I mean, I thought about us before, before you came but it seemed like those thoughts wouldn't really linger. Sometimes I even forgot about you, about us. At least until nighttime."

"I get that."

"But then you came and I want to be okay. But I'm not sure how I do that. I don't think it will be easy."

"It won't be." You sit in silence a little bit after that but then you decide to say more.

"I want you to know something, Calliope. I'm not going anywhere. Even if I say the wrong thing and it makes you sad or angry. I know, I know, people always say that. So if one day, maybe tomorrow, you decide you don't believe me, well go ahead and test it. I'm here unless you ask me to leave. And I mean really really ask me to leave. Not like you say it once and I go."

Callie nods her head at that, so far she's with you and she's not backing down from the conversation. You press your knee against hers to give her a physical confirmation of your words.

"Tell me what feels different, _now_. I can't imagine it and I don't want to assume," you say.

She lets out a deep breath and you're about to jump in and tell her no rush, except that there _is_ a rush. Not a rush in a way that you want it gone and dealt with. That's not real. It's more a rush in you want her to talk so that it might be a little easier a little sooner because you are full of so many hopeful futures for this girl.

And then Calliope gets really brave on you. "A lot of things feel different. I feel like I don't trust myself anymore. I feel like I've been swallowed by this darkness and the whole world looks less appealing than before. I feel like I ruined me, like I ruined us. I feel like people can tell just by looking at me. I feel like I can't hope anymore and I feel like I don't want to."

You don't respond immediately. Instead you let her fears sit there. Out in the open. Acknowledged and just, out there.

"Callie, this wasn't your fault," you say after awhile. You are slightly taken back by her thought that maybe she thinks it is.

"I know that, rationally, if that makes sense. I've taken enough psychology classes to know, know that. But sometimes, well more often than sometimes, I'm not certain."

"What that man did to you, Callie? That's on him."

She looks down at her lap and you watch her body tense up. You don't give up though.

"That was _his_ doing Callie. Not yours, never yours. He did that. And he'll have to deal with that in this life or the next. Look at me." The last part comes out softly, contradicting your direct tone from before.

She drags her face up to look at yours. You tentatively reach out and cup her face with one hand. "This is not on you. You are allowed to feel anything you want about all of this. Rage, sadness, whatever. But not blame, got it? Never blame."

Callie sinks into the couch as she nudges a little closer to you so that her cheek rests easily in your hand. "Do you think you could say that a lot?" she asks.

You nod. "Everyday, if you need it."

"Okay."

And it's a start. "You're so brave, Callie. Thank you for talking about it even if it was just a little bit today."

Again you watch her tense up. You retrace your words wondering what it was that you said.

"Is that hard to hear, the you are brave part?" you ask.

She just looks at you, confirming.

"Hm. I'm gonna say that one a lot too then, okay?" You smile at her. "In fact I'm sure I can dig up quite a few songs that are all about that."

This time she smiles back.

"Arizona?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you— could you kiss me?"

You really look at her then, making sure she means it and when you are certain that she does you hear your whispered response of, _always_, slip out.

You lean in a little bit more until your lips brush really softly against hers. Your hand drops so that it doesn't feel like you're keeping her face there. You want to give her the option of pulling back but she doesn't.

Your lips just kinda linger together, opening slightly just to taste the other a little bit. When she pulls back she doesn't shift away, she just scoots a little closer and rests her head on your shoulder.

It hits you then that you're in love with her as in really in love with her. As in you want to say it. Sure, you thought it before. But now, now it's so strong. It isn't a thought of, I could love her. It's only a thought of, I do.

You sink the two of you deeper into the couch as you shift her legs into your lap so that you're closer. You don't know what to do with your arms so you just leave them at your sides. Callie looks like she just may be about to drift off into dreamland when she opens her eyes. She then takes your one arm and wraps it behind her so that it lands around her waist. She takes the other and threads your fingers together before setting them into her lap. She settles against your chest, every inch of your bodies wrapped around each other. Her head goes back to your shoulder and soon her breathing evens out, telling you she is asleep.

You close your eyes, resting your head on top of hers. You tug her slightly closer.

"You are not to blame, love. And you are brave, so very brave." You whisper it out to her sleeping form, hoping it will start to sink in.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who is staying with this story. The final scene of this chapter is a very dear and personal scene for me. It ties with one other for my favorite scene of this entire piece. Hope you enjoy it too. **

* * *

_-CALLIE POV-_

* * *

Arizona has been here two weeks. Some days you shock her by requesting something such as a walk to the market. Other days it takes everything you've got just to bathe yourself and brush your hair. Some days you talk about it. Other days you don't. It's a fucking roller coaster. But you think you've been pretty good. No yelling and definitely no out of control crying. That has to be a good sign or so you think.

"So Gary called today and I've been reassigned to the hospital," Arizona says, her voice ringing out as she flips a page of her book. You look over to where she's sitting and you tug out the single ear bud that's connected to your music. Arizona flips another page but her eyes stay on you.

"What will you be doing?" you ask.

"Some clinic work it sounded like. Kinda like an internship. Sounded like a lot of medicine. He was all excited and slightly annoyed that I never mentioned that I'm already a certified phlebotomist."

"Oh, that's cool," your voice trails off. "Are you sure you really want to do something related to medicine? I thought you were over that," you say, knowing your voice is coming out more harsh than it should be. But Arizona once told you she didn't want to pursue medicine anymore. You can't figure out why girl can't make up her mind.

"Over it?" Arizona starts, setting her book down in her lap and looking at you more directly from across the room. "I wouldn't use the phrase _over it_."

You want to bite your tongue, nod your head and just go with it. Arizona has been everything these last fourteen days. But your mouth doesn't agree.

"Okay. I just didn't know you were going to change your mind so suddenly is all."

_Fuck_, it's the passive aggressive of all passive aggressiveness to ever be.

Arizona, however, just crinkles her eyebrow at you, her nose doing that little scrunchy thing. "You mean since we last talked about it at the training center over seven months ago? Yeah, I guess since then I've changed my mind."

Arizona says it really cautiously but you know that it's bullshit. The only reason she's doing this job is because it gave her more leverage. They need more medical personnel and Arizona is a prime candidate. She's taking the job so she can be near you and you hate that she is making such a sacrifice, really you do. But right now your brain is still buzzing with the information that Arizona will be going back to work. Arizona will be gone all day. And you, you will fall apart.

"Whatever," you say, popping both buds back into your ears, turning the music up. You can see Arizona out of the corner of your eye as she tucks the book in-between the seat cushion and stands up. She walks towards you and sits down on the floor in front of the spot you are occupying on the couch. She folds her arms over her tucked knees and just stares at you.

You try to ignore her but she's just _there_. It's annoying. You pull the buds back out and stare back.

"What?" you ask.

She just raises her eyebrows back at you. You hate that. "Use your words, Arizona." You scold her like she's a child.

"You first, Calliope." She says it sweetly, not at all snarky.

"I'm not the one changing my mind every few seconds."

"Neither am I. I'm not leaving you if that's where your mind went. I won't change my mind about that," Arizona says.

And your mind actually didn't go there. You don't doubt her that much. "That's not it." You slam the music back on, close your eyes in childish defiance. She places her hands on your knees. You jump. You hate that you jump. It's just you weren't expecting it.

"Sorry," Arizona says, pulling away, her hands lingering in the air as if she just slapped you or something. "So sorry."

"Stop apologizing," you yell at her, ripping the music away and tossing it to the side.

Arizona tilts her head to the side and considers you.

"And stop looking at me like that! I'm not wounded! I'm not dead! I'm fine!" you shout. Sort of feels good to shout.

Arizona at least has the decency to stop that head-tilty thing. She now looks at you straight on. "I don't start at the hospital for another week, Callie. And I told Gary to start me off just a few hours a day so that we can work into it."

Fuck, how did she do that? How does she read you so effortlessly? Normally or at least _before_, fucking before, it would have been endearing. Now it's just irritating.

"That's not what this is about!"

You are a bad liar.

"Okay. Then tell me what this is about then," Arizona says.

It infuriates you even more that she's not yelling back at you. It's hard to stay mad at a calm person. So you decide to just bail out all together on the conversation. You stand up right in front of her and actually step over her body as you head towards the kitchen. She, of course, follows.

"Callie. Talk to me."

"Leave me the fuck alone, Arizona."

"Come on, Cal."

"Seriously, Arizona! Get out of here!"

Arizona stands there on the opposite side of the kitchen with her arms crossed a little over her chest, her voice still pretty passive when she asks, "you sure?"

Your heart drops thinking maybe she thought you meant leave _leave_ as opposed to leave, just give me a moment, leave.

Maybe she just wants an easy out. She told you once early on in your relationship that her biggest flaw is she bails. Maybe she's hung on as much as she can.

"Yes! I'm sure. Get the fuck out of here!"

You wait for her to leave the room and go to your bedroom. You wait for her to gather her stuff, the things that they shipped to her from her village, and pack up. You wait for her to pull out her phone and make a call to Gary, asking for her education assignment back or maybe you just wait for her to call him up and tell him to book her a flight back to America. You wait for her to pass you by on her way out and you wait for her to pat you on the back and wish you future luck.

Of course she doesn't do that. She just nods her head and turns towards the living room, grabs her book and then walks past you.

"I'll just be on the porch for a while," she says, tossing the comment out over her shoulder as she heads for the front door. And with that she clears the space and pulls open the door and you watch her through the window as she sits down in the old wooden chair, opens her book and flips a freakin page.

You can't stop it. You can't hold it in. You can feel it coming. Coming, coming. Here.

You are bent over with laughter. Your laughter bursts out of your throat and you slide down to the floor as you laugh and laugh. Laugh until tears are coming, rolling down your face. You laugh for actual whole minutes. Because you actually thought you could scare her off in that one bad moment.

You pick your head up and pull your hair off your face, sit on your heels and glance towards the window. And she's watching you, a small laugh on her own face.

This only makes you laugh more. Arizona stands back up and comes back inside.

"Better now?" she asks.

You nod.

And just like that you are, at least for this moment.

* * *

_Some days later_

* * *

Arizona flings open the door of the house. "It's coming!" She hops up and down in excitement as she sets her bags on the table.

"The rain?" you ask, your own voice sounding oddly excited too. You fling back the door she just came in and step outside. It's hot, dusty and barely windy, like always. "It is not!"

Arizona steps up behind you and rests her head against your back. "I talked to five people just now on my way home and they all confirmed it!"

You turn around so you're facing her. "It is so not about to rain, Arizona. It's dry and gross out here. Not rain weather."

"That's what I said! But they just said, wait and see." She shrugs as she says it.

"Hm."

"Hey!" Addison shouts, stepping off the road and heading towards the porch. "It's coming!" Addison fist pumps the air as she declares it.

"I know!" your girlfriend shouts. You feel Arizona behind you start to bounce again.

"It is not." You put your hands on your hips as you look back up to the blazing hot sun.

"Oh, I think it is. I can smell it," Addison says, looking up at the sun too, shielding her eyes even as she talks.

Arizona giggles behind you. "You can smell it? I doubt that."

"Whatever. Everyone is talking about it. The ceremony starts at sundown." Addison finishes walking up the walk and pulls you into a tight but quick hug. "Hi friend."

"Hi." You don't let her kind gesture distract you though. "They're really gonna do this thing? First I thought they were kidding when they said they actually do rain dances but now, it isn't even raining!"

"We're not the locals." Arizona makes a fine point before the three of you head back inside. "Did you call Teddy and Mark?" she asks Addison.

"Called Teddy a bit ago. Mark had already heard, he should be here any minute."

"They're coming all the way here for the no rain?" you ask, gaspping at the stupidity of your friends.

"Have some faith, Calliope." Arizona starts to unpack the stuff she got at the market while Addison grabs her towel and heads for the outside shower located in the back.

You help Arizona unpack the bags, placing things where they go.

"You don't have to help," she tells you.

"I know. Can I make us dinner tonight?"

She stops her movements, taking you wanting to help as a good sign.

"They're feeding us at the ceremony tonight. Part of the whole thing. But, tomorrow night?" Her voice is all hopeful and cute.

"Okay." You finish folding the canvas bags and put them where they belong.

"One naked lady down! Two more to go!" Mark comes through the back door right in that moment.

He freezes when he sees you, damning himself for his words. "I didn't mean—"

You can see Arizona looking at him like she's about to punch his face.

"You're an ass Mark," you say, snapping one of the kitchen cloths at him as he enters the kitchen. "And Arizona you can't think he's going to have a personality change just because I have."

The room goes silent.

"Jesus. Lighten up! All of you." You smile at Arizona, telling her that you're joking, except not, _whatever_, it's funny.

"This is true." Marks comes over to pull you into a hug before walking to Arizona with his arms open. She turns her face so that he can kiss her cheek not willing to embrace him just yet.

"Mark Sloan!" Addison comes in on his heels, her wet hair dripping all over the floor, towel wrapped around her. "So not fair!"

"You wanna see some of _my_ good stuff?" Mark leers at her with his dumb cocky grin on his face. Addison walks over and slaps him on the face. Softly, but point still made.

"I think that was a no." You can't help but tease Mark plus you joking with a group of people is almost making Arizona break out into another happy dance which is kinda delightful.

"I think you're right Torres," Mark responds as Addison shakes her head and retreats to her room.

"So when does Teds get here?" Mark asks, sitting down at the table. You do the same, pulling Arizona onto your lap. She again looks at you from over her shoulder like she's about to go bonkers with your sudden improvement. You lean towards her ear so just she can hear. "It won't last."

"I know. Still though," she practically squeals, kissing you on the check before you both look back at Mark.

"I don't know. Addison called her though." You answer Mark just as Addison reappears in a skirt and tank top.

"She was hoping the bus right when I called her so actually if she makes good time she could be here soon."

And then of course, in she walks.

"Hey! People are already gathering out there." Teddy strolls in as she continues to look outside. "Do you really think it's going to rain, it looks still. Really still."

"That's what I said!" You place your head on Arizona's shoulder as Teddy finally faces the group and locates your voice. You watch her eyes go big at your okayness. She flashes Arizona a not so subtle grin.

"Alright. I gotta go get ready. Calliope?" Arizona stands and hugs Teddy on her way to your bedroom.

You follow Arizona to your room where she starts to change. When she pulls out her slicker you stop her. "Arizona, if it does rain which is won't it isn't going to pour." You gesture at her jacket with your finger.

She looks down at the material in her hands. "Too much?"

You nod. "Just a little."

She just nods her head at that and stuffs the ugly jacket back into her bag. She pulls off her clothes and slips into a white airy dress with thin straps along her shoulders. She pulls out a pair of sandals and takes her hair down.

You remove yourself to your section of the room and pull out a clean pair of jeans that you quickly slip into along with a green ribbed tank. When you turn back around Arizona has her back to you as she sits on the bed with her lotion bottle in her hands. She squirts out a little and starts to rub it on her legs.

"There's gonna be a lot of people huh?" you ask.

Arizona looks over her shoulder at you and when she sees that you're dressed she turns all the way around so she's facing you. "I think so," she answers, peering at you to see if you've changed your mind, her hands running up and down her dry calves.

"We could leave early if we wanted to, right?" You just want to be clear.

"Absolutely. And we're traveling in a group tonight just so you know."

You are grateful that she added this piece of information. When she's done she holds the bottle up at you. "Want any?"

You shake your head no and she recaps it and puts it back on the dresser. She runs her fingers through her hair once and then nods at you. You nod back. And out you go to collect your friends and then out you all go into the darkening night.

* * *

_Some hours later_

* * *

There's been food. And booze and firelight and entertainment, oh has there been entertainment. Okay, so you didn't stomach a whole lot of food and you ignored the booze but the fire and the dancers are plenty enough to occupy your eyes with.

And the music. It's loud and intense and kinda powerful. You glance over at Arizona who is sitting next to you. She doesn't touch you and she's a good two feet away from where you are sitting. The two of you can be stupid at times but neither of you are _that_ stupid. To display your affection out in public is not a smart move. But oh how you can feel her. You can feel her watching you and you can feel the fire as its warmth radiates off her skin. Mark sits on your other side, closer. Addison and Teddy sit behind the three of you. Your friends create a mini cocoon of safety while you watch the show.

Your mom always use to tell this story back when she use to tell stories about you. Back when she use to think you were worth telling stories about. It was about the first time you saw a play and it just happened to be a musical. She says you were four at the time and your dad and she had tickets. At the last minute the nanny got sick and they just decided to take you along and hope you'd sleep through the show. You don't remember the evening but you take her word for it. She says you sat there on your father's lap well into the ten 'clock hour and just soaked it in. She says the music and the dancing grabbed at you until your four year old eyes couldn't take any more and you fell into the deepest sleep she's ever seen you have.

It's like that now.

It's dark although you'd never know due to the roaring fire and the lanterns that hang everywhere. You glance at the crowd, wondering what they do when in the end it doesn't rain. But then a hush falls over the group.

You turn to Arizona with questions in your eyes. She shrugs her shoulders, as confused as you. You look past her to a group of women your age who all have their faces turned upwards. You look back at Arizona, tilting your head to indicate the group. She turns and notices too. When she looks back at you, the two of you raise your faces like everyone else.

And that's when it starts. It doesn't start gradually and it doesn't start lightly. The sky literally opens up and rain pours from its mouth. You close your eyes as the wet slaps your face. You feel the cool water soak into your hair, send rivets down your skin and drench your clothes. When you do open your eyes and look towards her, she is sitting there and she is smiling at you.

"It's beautiful!" You shout it at her, both of you completely unaware of the loud music and the frenzy of dance that is now going on all around you.

"What?" She yells it back as everyone from this village cheers at the good fortune to finally have rain. The drums pick up their speed and now it isn't just the dancers who are dancing. Everyone is moving to the sounds, throwing their hands up, giggling and shouting thanks. It's an actual bona fide rain dance.

"It's beautiful!" You shout it even louder. At first you meant the rain but now you mean everything even though you aren't really looking at any of it at all. You are really just looking at her.

"You're beautiful!" She shouts it back at you and you catch it as her voice rings out. She stands and you follow suit.

And then you are dancing.

Oh, how you're dancing.

You are briefly aware that Mark and Teddy and Addison are near by but all you really see is her. Arizona dances close to you but not too close even though right now everyone is dancing with everyone. Dancing isn't even the right word.

It's stomping and clapping and jumping and twirling. It's whatever you want. How ever you want to give thanks for the rain, that's what people are doing. And you do too, you do give thanks. You can literally feel the wetness urging you to keep going, telling you to not give up. It's encouraging you to notice the life that is happening all around you. It's shouting at you, demanding, that you survive.

Because how in this moment, standing here with your arms flung out and your head tilted back towards that beautiful sky as rain pours down your body, not see that it is worth living for?

The rain, the music, the celebration, the obvious thankfulness for life is so in your face. It's everywhere. You can literally feel those drums beating the life back into your body. It's the shouting of the people as they laugh and sing. It's your own tears, finally the tears, as they stream down your face and get caught up in your smile. It's the vibrations you can feel through the ground, pulsing up your legs, and shooting out through your arms. It's the fire you can still feel radiating against your skin even as it fights to burn. It's all of it! Everything blazes at you, shouts at you— Live!

So you stand, face turned upwards. There is movement everywhere around you but you stand still, arms spread out wide.

Live. Fight. Give thanks for the rain.

You shout out with everyone else. You're laughing. You're crying. You don't know what else but it is freeing.

And it is so beautiful.

And also, and this is the big one so listen up! It's the glimpse you get every few moments of a pretty girl all in white as she twirls past you. And she's dancing. Hair wild and body a blur. She dancing for you and she's dancing for the rain to keep on coming.


End file.
